


The Butterfly Effect.

by Foxhunt



Category: The Prince of Egypt (1998)
Genre: AU, Cheating (sorta), Child Death, Childbirth, Death, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Gay Sex, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Pregnancy, Romance, Tragedy, one sided attraction (sorta), relationships, some important people die
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:47:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 34,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24774877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxhunt/pseuds/Foxhunt
Summary: Rameses loses many lives. Moses does too.New chapters uploaded every other Saturday.
Relationships: Moses/Rameses II (Prince of Egypt), OC/OC, Rameses/Nefertari, Seti/Tuya (Prince of Egypt)
Comments: 50
Kudos: 109





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quarantine is breaking my brain. I've watched this movie five times in two weeks. I'm appalled that such a wonderful movie has such slim pickings in terms of fanfiction that's not oneshot or unfinished. I decided to take matters into my own hands. There will be plenty more to come, so if you like it, you can count on there being more. I hope you enjoy.

“You will regret this night.” Moses nearly spit venom in the slave woman’s face.

Normally he was a very composed, if playful young man, not quick to anger. But the egregiousness of her words was enough to draw a gasp from any dignified Egyptian and be punished by the crack of a whip.

She grabbed his hand, insisting that she and the scrawny man at the well were his siblings. She claimed he was not a prince of Egypt, but a Hebrew. The final blow that made him lose his temper was when she claimed the mighty Pharaoh was not his father, but rather a devil.

He stomped off into the night as he heard her whimper and sob as she knelt on the ground. His heart was ready to climb into his throat and out of his mouth, his ears ringing, and fists clenched, knuckles white.

Clearly the Hebrew woman was insane. _Him_? A _Hebrew_? It could not be true _. How cruel could she be to say such things_ , he thought. He began to sprint as his anger and confusion turned to panic. He desperately needed answers from Mother and Father.

He heard whispers in the streets as he flew through the city streets.

“Look, it’s Moses!” He heard them whisper to one another. Their words were hard to make out, and the ringing in his ears grew louder and shriller. His vision began to tunnel until all he could see was the palace. His home, he knew. Or hoped.

He blinked once and was suddenly at the foot of the palace stairs. His knees gave in and let him trip and fall on the cool alabaster stone. He regained his footing, trying to ignore the blood trickling down his leg from his scraped knee.

Moses’ throat felt dry and rough, like cracked rock under the sun. He began to feel the burn of bile. He felt two strong hands wrap around his waist from behind, holding him still. He began to writhe as his vision blurred.

“Moses, are you alright?” It was Rameses, whispering gently in his ear. He tried to give some word of response, but only gagging came from his mouth Rameses spun his brother around, and cupped his face, looking at him with a worried brow, asking him the same question again.

His head began to fill with the echoes of the Hebrew woman’s words.

“You are not a prince of Egypt.”

Why was he so scared of her lies? His breath hitched as he felt his brother shake him.

“Moses, tell me what is wrong. Please!” Rameses said, louder this time, gently slapping his brother's soft skin to try to bring him back to reality.

_I cannot tell you anything._

Moses pushed himself out of Rameses’ grip. All his strength gone, he backed against the wall and looked up at the ceiling as it began to spin.

He heard his brother's voice, muffled again by the words of a slave. He could tell that Rameses’ voice was much louder now.

The last of his strength left his body in the form of acid that spilled from his throat and nose. He was overcome with a new heaviness. He felt and heard his head connect with the hard ground. The last thing he could hear before it all went dark was Rameses desperately crying for help, like a child who could not find his mother.

* * *

When Moses awoke the first thing he could feel was the light stabbing his eyes. The second was the soreness of his forehead. He grunted as he brought his arm to cover his face. He felt his throat burn as he swallowed the thick saliva that had been stuck in his mouth all night. He remembered that he had thrown up.

“Moses?” He heard a soft whisper. He opened his eyes.

It was his mother. Her soft feline eyes were accompanied by an unusual ring of darkness. He had never seen his mother look so exhausted. He felt tears form in his eyes and begin to run down his face. He whimpered like a child and reached his arms up weekly, begging to be embraced.

Tuya leaned down without hesitation and cradled her son’s face, shushing him. The last time he had cried and begged to be held like this was after his circumcision. Although princes were not supposed to weep, Tuya reveled in the feeling of being a protector again. She sometimes missed cradling her sons in her arms, smelling their hair, and kissing their foreheads and being their god before they knew what gods were.

“Oh Moses,” she sighed, feeling his tears dampen her neck, “we were all so worried about you.”

“I’m sorry I worried you, Mother.” He sniffled. She gently scolded him for thinking he had to apologize.

After a few moments filled with nothing but patient and loving silence, she pulled away and cupped his face in her hands. His eyes were puffy, but he had stopped crying.

“Do you have any idea what happened last night?” She asked, running her hands through his soft curls. Moses sighed as his head throbbed at the few memories he did have. Taking a deep breath, he looked at her in worry.

“I need to talk to you and Father about something.”

* * *

Rameses was walking the palace corridor to his chambers. His pace was slow and tired. Rubbing his eyes as he remembered the living nightmare of the night before.

_After pleading at the top of his lungs for help for his brother, Moses was surrounded by guards and footmen. Though he tried to push his way back into the shuffle, Rameses was forced out and his brother’s body, that was full of movement just moments ago, hung limp in arms that were much too rough and careless for a prince._

_He followed them, tripping over his own feet and watched them place his rag-doll of a brother onto the bed. The commotion suddenly went quiet and the men all stared at his brother’s body, unsure of what to do next._

_Rameses did not hear his parents enter the room because the only sound that could be heard was Rameses bellowing at the useless, pathetic, idiotic servants to do something, anything._

_His rampage only stopped when he felt a god-like weight on his shoulder. He turned and saw his father. The energy tunneling out of Seti’s eyes and into his soul left him feeling empty. Dazed, he shuffled out of the room silently, knowing that another utterance would ensure in his death._

_He focused his gaze to his feet as his father walked - much too slow, Rameses thought – to his youngest son’s side. He clenched his teeth as he heard the older man talk calmly and evenly. Something Rameses had never learned._

_He felt his mother’s delicate hand on his shoulder and felt her lips on his cheek. When she returned to the doorway, he followed her, only for her to put up her hand. She created a wall between him and everything he loved and there was nothing he could do. He had already disgraced himself enough._

He heard soft voices as he neared his Moses’ chambers. Mother’s, Father’s, and…

Moses’.

He had to force himself not to burst into the room, afraid of his father wilting him again. He was already on his bad side because of his behavior the night before. He decided, as much as he hated the idea, that it would be best if he slipped by, unnoticed and-

“Rameses.” His father said. The prince regent turned slowly and saw his father beckoning him into the room. He hesitated for a moment, wondering if it was a trap. His suspicion was washed away by the elation he felt at the chance to see, hear, speak to, and _touch_ his brother. He walked in with a little too much eagerness for a man of his title and knelt beside the bed. For a few seconds he let his eyes soften, looking at his brother. He wanted to stroke Moses' cheek, press their foreheads together and smell his soft skin, things that they did in hushed corners of the palace. But their parents were here, and he could not do that.

“I took you for dead.” He said, laughing. Moses smirked.

“Yeah, well, I’d happily choose death over this headache.” His face fell after a few moments, and he looked ahead at his father and mother. Rameses followed his gaze. The two were stiff, uncomfortable.

“What’s going on?’ Rameses asked. His mother looked at him, anxiety shining through the small cracks in her calm façade.

“Moses said he needed to talk to all of us.” She said.

“What is it, my son?” His father inquired.

Moses sat up in the bed and sighed, looking down.

“Last night,” he began, “I took a walk. I did not have any specific destination, and I just got lost in my thoughts.” _I am not about to tell them that I was following the Midian girl from the banquet after I helped her escape_ , he thought to himself. “But I somehow ended up in the slave quarters of the city and found a man and a woman at a well.”

“Where on Earth is this going Moses?” Rameses sighed, trying to hide his irritation. After the banquet, he had been looking for his brother all night, trying to get him alone. Rameses ran out of patience and decided instead to distract his mind with Nefertari. She could hold his attention for at least a little while.

“The woman was overjoyed to see me, she grabbed my hand and told me she knew I would care about their freedom.” He looked to his parents for any response. Unreadable. Rameses snorted.

“What?” He laughed. Moses sighed much deeper this time and swallowed the hesitation in his throat.

“She told me that I was not a prince of Egypt. She said that her and the man at the well were my brother and sister, and my mother sent me adrift in a basket down the Nile to save me.” Moses looked at his parents as he said this. His mother was looking down at her feet, his father was the only one meeting his gaze.

Rameses stood up and sputtered, unable to let out any sort of response. What kind of maniac did his brother meet last night? Every time that Moses went out on his own at night, it reminded Rameses that Moses should absolutely _not_ go out on his own at night.

“Save you from what?” Rameses asked, feeling himself get hot with anger. Moses finally looked at him, and then back to his father.

“She said her mother saved me from you, Father.” He felt a chill go down his spine as his father sighed and looked down at the ground, for the first time ever seeing a sign of submission from the man. His mother turned his back to him.

“Did she say why?” His father asked. Moses shook his head.

“No.”

Seti looked back at his son. “Did she say anything else?”

Moses pinched the bridge of his nose and was silent for a moment.

“She told me that her God chose me to be the Hebrew’s deliverer to freedom.” He said tightly.

“Father,” Rameses said, “this slave must be punished. She cannot be allowed to spread such lies about a prince of Egypt.” Their father and mother were both silent.

“Father, Mother, please, tell me it isn’t true. Tell me I am not a Hebrew.” Moses begged. Seti looked to his wife. Tuya felt his gaze and turned to face her son again.

“Moses, please try to understand.” She said softly, coming close to him. He let out a noise like the air had been punched out of his body.

“So, it’s true.” He said. She held him close as his father placed his hand on his head. Rameses stood there slack jawed.

“So... So everything I thought, everything I am, is a lie.” Moses said somberly.

‘No.” His mother insisted. “You are our son, and we love you.”

“It is true,” his father began, “the Gods pushed the basket holding you into our calm palace waters, and your mother discovered you.”

“You were a blessing, Moses.” Tuya said.

“Will one of you please tell me what’s going on? I don’t understand.” Rameses asked softly. His mother looked up at him with a sad smile.

“You were there with me, Rameses, when Moses came to us. You were too young to remember.” She said.

“So, Moses… is not my brother? He is a Hebrew?” Rameses felt his world falling apart around him. His father looked at him sternly.

“He is not your brother nor Egyptian in blood. But if the Gods did not want him here, the waves of the Nile would have pushed him elsewhere. Therefor he is as much our son and your brother as before any of this was discovered. To treat him any differently now, Rameses, would be blasphemy.”

He looked at Moses, who avoided his intense stare. This man who used to be - until a few seconds ago - his brother, was now I man he did not know. All of the laughs, adventures, rare tears, and beds they had shared now felt wrong. Rameses felt like a foreigner in a new place. This palace was strange to him now.

“Moses, why do you always have to make a mess of everything?” He marched out of the room as memories that danced through his head were stained by a black, dreadful feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> decided a character trait that suited moses was to be prone to anxiety and panic attacks. they will be frequent throughout the series. also, head trauma (moses’ fainting spell causes him to hit his head) can sometimes cause damage to the frontal lobe which impairs decision making and emotional reactions. this can be seen as the basis for his OOC decision making/selfishness.


	2. Chapter 2

Rameses sat on the steps of the palace waters, staring at his reflection, and tearing the petals off a lotus, sprinkling them into the water.

“Rameses?” His mother asked, rather meekly.

“So, I was here when you found him.” He stared at her reflection in the water as she sat down beside him. She turned his chin to look at her.

“Yes, you were,” she began, “I was in the water, playing with you, and felt something hit my leg.” He watched as she smiled, staring at the waters, reliving the memory.

“I put you down and opened it and saw your brother. I do not know what drew me to him so strongly, but I could not bring myself to push him back out into the river.”

Rameses sighed and looked away.

“I just cannot understand why you didn’t tell both of us sooner.” He mumbled.

“We did not want you to treat him any differently than you would a brother of your own blood. We knew that someday you may find out the truth, and we hoped that by the time you did, your bond would be so great that it would not be broken.” Her voice was calm and warm.

“Our bond is strong, and he _is_ my brother in my heart…” Rameses trailed off, looking up at the sky. Moses was many things to him. “But I just cannot see how things can go back to the way they were.”

Tuya smiled at him.

“Things cannot go back to the way they were, Rameses. The love between you and your brother can grow from this, or whither away, but that is for you both to decide.” She then rose and walked away, leaving him to ponder her words by himself

* * *

“Are you sure, Pharaoh?” Hotep asked.

“Not that we mean to question your judgement, of course.” Huy added quickly.

“It’s just that we would hate to see artwork depicting your glory to be erased.” Hotep finished.

The two priests waited impatiently, hoping their Pharaoh would rethink his decision. To paint over a part of Egypt’s history is to offend the Gods, they thought.

Seti sighed, shaking his head.

“Yes, I’m sure.” He stared at his portrait, tracing his finger to where the painted hand was pointing. He grimaced as his eyes trailed down the mural, dotted with pictures of infants being thrown into the Nile by his soldiers, the crocodiles waiting impatiently for their feast.

He shook his head at the thought of any of those children being his youngest son. His eyebrow twitched as he heard an infant Moses crying, being dragged under the water, his wails becoming gurgles and then nothing at all. He would remember to give thanks to the Gods in the evening for preventing such a horrible thing.

“What should it be replaced with, my Lord?” Huy inquired.

Seti stared at the wall, pondering for a moment.

“Anything other than what it is.”

Hotep scowled. _The Hebrew brat probably put his father up to this._

“Of course, Your Highness.” The priests bowed to him. Seti turned and walked out of the corridor.

“Make sure it is started tonight.” He said, his back to them. They promised it to be so, and when the Pharaoh’s silhouette fully left their sight, they cursed Moses. It enraged them that such lowly a being as a Hebrew would have so much room in the Pharaoh’s heart.

* * *

Moses had not left his room in a week following the incident. Every night his mother begged him to come out and act like their son again.

“But I am no longer Rameses’ brother. His contempt for me is too much to bear.” He would say, and Tuya would just shake her head and leave his chambers

Although he knew his parents loved him, the realization that he was not one of them anymore was a constant weight on his spirit that he could not free himself of.

He waited into the latest parts of the night when everything was quiet and only the guards were awake. He slipped through the palace with ease. The guards did not ask questions.

As Moses reached the bottom of the steps he looked back at the palace, saying his final goodbyes in his head. Bowing to his father, kissing his mother, and letting Rameses pull him into a hug strong enough to break bones. He smiled at the thought.

He trudged through the city, trying to figure out where he was even going to _go_. If not here, where?

_Nowhere._ He thought. _You are too Hebrew for the Egyptians, and too Egyptian for the Hebrews. There is no place for you. Perhaps in the afterlife._

He found himself walking from the main roads to the statue that he and his brother had very recently defaced. He climbed up the weak and creaking ladders until he was atop the scaffolding. He sat with his legs hanging off the edge.

He overcame his fear of heights long ago, so he would not die in fear. He stood up and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting the wind blow across his neck one last time.

“Moses! Moses!” He looked down to see his brother bellowing his deep voice up at him. “What in the world are you doing up there?”

Moses ignored him and moved closer to the edge. His brow furrowed in annoyance when he heard his brother frantically climbing up the ladders to meet him.

“Go away!” Moses snapped.

“No! I will not go away while you’re trying to throw yourself to your death!” Rameses rushed up to his younger brother and pulled him away from the edge, trying not to think about Moses splattered on the ground below.

“Let me go! Just leave me be!” Moses protested, kicking and trying to wriggle out of his brother’s arms. But Rameses had always been of godlike strength, so his struggle was in vain.

“Why are you so difficult, Moses?” Rameses threw him down with a thud, shaking the platform. He made a noise in surprise as Moses kicked his feet out from under him and jumped on top of him, pinning him down.

“Why do you treat me differently now that you know the truth?” Moses yelled as he shook his brother by the shoulders. “Ever since you found out you’ve been avoiding me like I am a plague. I am your brother!”

Rameses kicked Moses off with his foot and the younger brother rolled onto his stomach, stunned from the sudden loss of air. He got on top of Moses and put his arm around his neck, sitting on his back.

“Oh, because _you’re_ the only one who’s realized his entire life has been a lie?” Rameses retorted. He cried out as he felt Moses bite down on his arm and shoved the younger man away.

Moses began making his way quickly down the ladders. “At least you’re their blood son so they actually _love_ you!” Rameses bounded down after him, tight on his heels.

“Last time I checked _you_ were the one who they spoiled rotten, and _I_ was the one who had to face the consequences for _everything_!” He replied, panting. But he knew that with Moses’ boundless energy, this was going to be a long talk.

They raced past the temple and into the city streets. Their citizens stared in disbelief as Prince Moses turned the corner, quickly followed by his much larger, much scarier brother.

“Well you know what Rameses? Maybe I would _like_ to have some responsibility occasionally, and not just be a jester.” Moses called over his shoulder. Rameses huffed in fury, picking up his pace.

“I gave you the title Royal Chief Architect not too long ago, in case you forgot.” Rameses yelled. “How do you repay me? By trying to splatter yourself all over a statue of our father.”

“Like you’d actually care about that. You’d probably be _relieved_ to have me out of the way.”

Rameses was aghast.

“Where on Earth did you get that idea?!” He cried. “When I get my hands on you, Moses, you’re going to regret this!”

But before Moses could answer he toppled over a ledge and disappeared into the brush and palm trees. Rameses just barely saved himself from the same fate.

He called his brother’s name. First quietly, and then louder each time that he heard no answer. He realized that a crowd had formed behind him. How ridiculous he must look, prince regent, wearing his white nemes, calling for his brother into the trees.

As he approached the greenery, he heard a rustling. He crept down onto his knees and parted the brush, but still unable to see.

“Moses?” He whispered quietly. Hopefully.

“No, I’m a crocodile.” His brother spat sarcastically. “Of course it’s me- agh!”

Rameses crawled further into the brush and saw his brother, alive and well. Well, sort of. Moses was looking at his left leg, wincing when he touched it.

“Are you hurt?” Rameses asked.

“I think so.” Moses said through clenched teeth. Whether it was serious or not he did not know. He felt his brother’s hand tenderly grab the back of his neck. He always marveled at Rameses' ability to be so full of rage and passion at the same time, though, he mused, they really were such similar feelings anyways. He looked at Rameses, who brought their foreheads together for just a moment, something that he would constantly do. Despite being a strong, prideful man, he would always turn to Moses for comfort at night or when they were alone at the water or in alleys shaded by the sun.

“Well, that’s good.” Rameses said as he pulled away from his brother and picked him up out of the brush. “That means I can stop chasing you like an idiot.” Moses pouted as he realized he could not escape.

“Can you walk?” Rameses asked.

“I can limp.” His younger brother said.

“We’ve got a long journey back home, and if you limp all the way it will be morning before we’re there.” Rameses said as he crouched down and pointed to his back. Moses frowned.

“I am not a child. I refuse to ride on your back.” He said, attempting to strut ahead of Rameses, but tripping and falling on his hurt leg _again_.

“Moses, if you do not get on my back, I will leave you here. Do you really want to feel rats chewing at your ears all night?” Rameses smirked, and Moses shuddered at the thought.

“Fine.” Moses sighed.

Rameses walked with Moses on his back with ease, avoiding looks from any passersby as they neared the palace.

“Remember when you were little, and you slipped and fell off a rock, and I had to carry you to Mother like this? You cried the entire time.” He laughed.

“The only reason you carried me back was because it was your fault and you felt bad.” Moses retorted.

“Felt bad? Bad about what?” Rameses asked, incredulously.

Moses sighed in frustration.

“You were trying to get me to dive into the Nile. I was scared to jump from the rock because it was so high up, so you pushed me.” He explained.

“Ah! Yes, that is right. You kept trying to back out.” Rameses laughed through his words.

“Yes, and you pushed me and missed the river completely. I fell flat on my face. There was blood everywhere.” Moses’ penchant for memories made it hard for him to stop his voice from raising in pitch as he grinned.

“I thought you dead for sure. The only reason I knew you were alive is because you started wailing like a baby. The whole way home I was trying not to cry myself, because I knew Mother and Father were going to kill me.” Rameses admitted. “But when Mother asked you what happened, you told her that it was your fault. You were always there to get me out of trouble.” He looked back at his brother, and then dropped his head to the ground. His face was pressed into Moses’ hands, and the younger brother could feel the outline of his frown.

“I’m sorry, Moses. I admit that it was horribly selfish of me to act the way I did when they told us the truth.” He said quietly. Moses was touched by his words. He wrapped his arms tighter around his brother, a poor attempt at a hug, and leaned into his brother’s ear.

“It’s alright. I understand why you would be upset as well.” He said softly. He felt Rameses’ sculpted body tense slightly at his cool breath and smirked. For someone who gave out so much affection, he was easily flustered when it was reciprocated.

“Do you think…” Rameses trailed off. The two were silent for a moment. Moses was waiting to hear the end of his sentence. “Do you think that things can go back to the way they were?”

“No, I do not think so.” Moses replied. “But that does not mean that things have to get worse.”

“You know, I was talking with Mother, and she said something similar. She told me that it is up to you and me whether or not we grow from this, or let our relationship die.” Rameses told him.

“Smart woman.” Moses thought aloud.

* * *

Once they reached the top of the palace steps, Rameses let his brother down gently.

“They may ask fewer questions if we don’t walk in with you on my back.” Moses nodded in agreement.

Rameses slowed his pace as to keep up with his brother. He followed his younger brother until they were at his chambers. Rameses looked down the hall to his own. He did not want to go there. Not yet.

“What is it?” Moses asked, turned to face his brother. Rameses realized how long he had been silent.

Rameses quickly shuffled both into his chambers and shut the doors behind him. He drew his brother into a strong embrace, feeling Moses’ hands pressed flat against his chest.

“You cannot try something like that again. You are _my brother_. I _love_ you.” He rubbed Moses’ back. “If you die, we will die also. All of Egypt will fall, for the dynasty will be too broken to withstand the pain.”

Moses felt Rameses give him a tender kiss on his shoulder. He always felt so horrible that he struggled to return his brother’s feelings. He knew Rameses loved him in many ways, and it was mutual. But when the breathy moans and sweating and grunting was over, and Rameses would bid him goodnight with a long kiss, they would look at each other so sadly. He knew Rameses knew, but neither of them had the strength to say it. Moses did everything he could to make his brother happy.

“Do not worry, I could not leave you. Ever.” Moses said, pulling away from his brother. Rameses smiled and took his brother’s hand, leading him to the bed.

Though Moses never felt the explosive warmth his brother did in moments like this, he felt secure in being able to give that feeling to Rameses. But sometimes at night he would lie awake, terrified at the power he had over his brother’s heart.

He knew the night was finished as he heard Rameses sputtering a declaration of love in his ear and become rigid over top his body. He winced as his brother withdrew. He lay there for a moment, watching Rameses get dressed. He felt his brother give him a final kiss on the cheek goodnight.

“I know I’ve probably said it a hundred times tonight, but I love you.” Rameses laughed softly, and Moses did also. “I love you too.” He replied.

He stared at Rameses as he left the chambers, shutting the door softly behind him. Once he knew his brother was out of earshot he began to let his tears fall, a regular occurrence on nights like these.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> poor rameses, always getting left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew. finally done with this semester. i get two months off, i'm going to try and write as much as i can.

Moses raced through the sinking sand up the hill to meet his brother, who was looking over a blueprint. Moses smirked as he realized that Rameses was using the statue's broken nose as an overlook. Rameses had whispered in Moses’ ear that morning to meet him at the construction site. He was flanked by the priests and being fanned in the heat.

“Sorry I’m late. I was busy destroying _another_ temple.” He said. Rameses laughed and turned Moses’ attention to the blueprint in front of him.

“Fate has turned our little misadventure into a great opportunity.” He said, putting his arm around his brother. “Father will be so pleased. This is just the beginning. A gateway will open to an entire new city of white limestone, more dazzling than the sun. And here, a statue of Hapi, god of the flood. Imagine two great column halls…”

“Sounds impressive, brother. Then again, you have always been over-the-top.” Moses interrupted his brother’s ramblings. Rameses made a sour face.

“I have to provide the Gods with immaculate temples as apology for _your_ antics.” The older brother said, shooing him away. “Do me a favor, baby brother, and get closer look.” He pointed to the temple in front of him. Moses bowed dramatically. “Right away, my lord.” He scampered off, ignoring his brother’s scolding.

“Moses?” He was snapped out of his imagination after a few moments by the figure in front of him. It was the slave woman. Moses felt dread in his stomach. It was happening all over again.

“Have you finally realized you _are_ the deliverer? Have you come to free us?” She was gleeful.

“No, slave. I was gentle and let you off with a warning last time. If you continue you with this unacceptable behavior, I will not hesitate to have you punished.” Moses said sternly and softly, hoping not to draw attention or his brother’s ire to them.

“I-I-I don’t’ understand,” she stuttered. “How can _you_ not understand?”

Moses got close to her face. “I may be Hebrew in blood, but I am Egyptian in my heart and soul, and you will not take that away from me, neither you nor your God.”

“But you are our deliverer!” She cried. Her brother appeared and again tried to pull her away. “Miriam, stop.” He said firmly. She struggled out of his grasp. A crowd of slaves was forming, even taskmasters were silent in anticipation.

“You are _not_ a prince of Egypt!” She cried, grabbing his usekh and tearing it from his chest. A gasp rippled through the crowd. Her brother looked as if he was close to fainting.

“How dare you!” Rameses shouted as he appeared behind is brother. “You filthy Hebrews have tormented my brother enough. You will pay the consequences.” The woman did not waiver.

She turned her look to him, unafraid. “He is not your brother! He is _ours_!”

Rameses pushed her to the ground.

“Guards, seize her!” He commanded. The woman’s brother knelt between her and Rameses, his voice trembling. “Please your excellency, take me instead. My sister is terribly ill and does not recognize to whom she speaks.” Rameses paid him no heed.

“Arrest them both.”

Moses was frozen in place, staring at the two Hebrews as they were dragged away.

“Moses! You must listen to me, I beg you! You are not a royal prince! You – mmph!” A guard roughly brought a hand over her mouth.

He ran, tripping down the hill of sand. The panic had set in again. He heard his brother call after him to stop, but he did not listen. His feet began to move on their own, wanting to take him somewhere away from the suffocation of city walls.

_I cannot stay here anymore._

He was brought to a halt as he neared a gate out of the city. His brother had blocked the way with a swivel of his chariot.

“Get out of the way, Rameses.” Moses said curtly. His brother jumped in front of him and held him still by his shoulders.

“Why do you let them frighten you?” Rameses asked. But he could never stop Moses. The younger wrestled out of his brother’s grip.

“They are right. I am not a prince of Egypt.” His voice was weak, but his words strong.

Rameses came to his brother’s side as he marched out of the city gates, panting not from exhaustion but from panic. “I am Egypt! The Morning and The Evening Star! If I say "Day is Night," it will be written, and you will be what I say you are! I say you are a true prince of Egypt.”

“What you say does not matter. I cannot stay here. You don’t understand.” Moses shouted at him. Rameses flinched. Though they had yelled at each other plenty of times before, Moses had never sounded so angry.

“Moses.” Rameses said softly. “Please.”

Moses looked back at him, trying to blink away the mist in his eyes.

“Goodbye brother.” He turned to the desert. He could hear Rameses’ cries long after the man had disappeared from behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you're wondering, an usekh is a collar necklace that was common in ancient egyptian royalty. i am using it because that's the closest word I can find to describe the necklace that both rameses and moses wore at the banquet, and that moses ripped off in the desert.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally settled in after traveling for work. have another chapter!

Moses held himself and shivered. He could barely see anything. The desert was shrouded in darkness, the wind whipped across his skin. His eyes were burning from the grains of sand that had gotten caught in his thick lashes, and every time his teeth chattered from the cold air, he could feel the grains of sand between them. He tried his best to collect it all into a thick ball of saliva and then spit it out, but each time he opened his mouth, more was swallowed than had left.

He had been walking for days. He rid himself of his wig on the first day, as it made his head sweat and itch, but deeply regretted the decision at nightfall. His ears were stinging from the cold. Not only did he struggle to walk from exhaustion, but his bare feet provided little to no traction up and down the dunes. He had been forced to discard of his sandals, tripping over sharp rock protruding from the earth that ripped them apart. He did not notice the gash in between his toes until it had grown infected.

He wanted more than anything to return home and take a warm bath, scrubbing his skin until it was raw. He wanted his mother to use her long fingers to massage his hair with oil, scratching his scalp, what she would usually do to send him to sleep as a child.

If only they could see him now, he thought. Trudging through the desert, nearly naked, the beginnings of a beard framing his face, gaunt and pallid from lack of water and food. He now kicked himself for scaring the priests into fasting for two months. An empty stomach was the worst feeling in the world.

He could not go back. He _knew_ that Father would refuse him, Mother would turn her head in shame, and Brother would make it a point to forget him.

Moses let out a small noise of frustration as the wind blew harder, knocking him over. He writhed and flipped himself over onto his stomach, but he could not find the strength to get up. He stupidly tried to grab onto the sand to help lift him. But it slipped through his fingers.

He panicked as he could feel the sand washing over has back, slowly cocooning him. He knew he would surely die. His last moments would be of complete darkness, breathing in sand, and listening to the wind howl its cruel laugh across the desert.

* * *

Moses groaned as he felt sand grate roughly up his face.

“Hey you, get up.” It was a woman’s voice, gruff and stern. She took her foot and lightly rolled him onto his back.

Moses opened his eyes but could only see a black silhouette and the burning bright sun around it. He closed his eyes again. He heard grumbling and then gasped as he felt water hit his face. He was awake now.

“Get up, I don’t have all day. Do you want to die out here?” The voice said.

Moses leaned up and rubbed his eyes. He found out that that figure in front of him was the same Midian girl as at the banquet. _Great._ Moses pushed the embarrassment from his mind and reached his hand up to her.

“Please,” he rasped. “I need water.” She scowled and grabbed his hand, pulling him up. Moses took a few seconds to gain his balance. The girl shoved a waterskin into his chest.

“Don’t drink all of it.” She said curtly.

He nearly smiled around the spout of the pouch, wondering to himself why anyone would ever drink beer or wine when water just tasted so incredibly _good_. He had to remind himself to breathe and pulled it away from his mouth sooner than he wanted to, lest he make his savior despise him even more than she already did.

The woman took the waterskin back from him, and Moses rested his hands on his knees. He heard the noises of a camel behind him and turned to see her adjusting the various bags the animal was carrying.

“Why are you out here?” She asked, not looking at him. “Surely not to come after me.” She finally looked him up and down, one eyebrow raised. “I’m surprised a palace brat like you lasted this long out here.”

“Many things changed on that night.” Moses replied. He saw her expression soften slightly, and he figured it was because his own took on a sad look. “But being alone out here gave me a lot of time to think. Now that I have met you again I want to say I am sorry.” The girl was caught off guard by this, and quickly looked away.

“Well,” She said, clearing her throat, “you can tell me all about it on the way back.”

“Way back where? Egypt?” Moses asked. She looked back at him with a lopsided smile.

“No way, back to my home. Midian.” She replied.

* * *

Moses stared at Tzipporah as she darted around the tent, rummaging for new clothes for him. She had told him her name on the way to Midian, and he thought it quite pretty. The walk had been long, but time passed quickly as he told her his story.

“So, let me get this straight,” She paused, holding up a large red cloak and throwing it to him, giving a small laugh as she watched it swallow him up. “You, a crown prince of Egypt, ran after me as I escaped, bumped into your brother and sister you had no idea existed, found out you were actually born of a Hebrew slave, that God had saved you to be the deliverer of the Hebrews, and that you had been completely lied to for eighteen years?”

“That’s pretty much it.” He replied, his voice muffled by the fabric of the cloak as he put it on. He looked at her and sighed. “Then I abandoned my family and ran out into the desert without any sort of plan. I would’ve died if you hadn’t found me.” He gave a sad smile. “Though, they probably take me for dead anyways.” Tzipporah came and sat beside him.

“Why did you leave? Wouldn’t it have been easier to stay?” She asked. Moses looked into her amber eyes.

“I cannot say because I do not know. Regardless, once I stepped foot outside the gates of Memphis I knew I couldn’t turn around.” He shook his head. “I can only move forward, but I have no idea where I’m supposed to go.”

“Well, I was thinking you could stay here.” Tzipporah said tentatively. “I mean, you can’t possibly make it anywhere further with that foot of yours.”

“You really want me to stay? After what I did to you?” Moses was surprised.

“Everybody deserves a second chance.” She gave him a warm smile that he returned. “Besides, you owe me.” She gave him a playful shove and hopped up. “Now come, I want to introduce you to everyone.”

“I’m nervous.” Moses said, standing up and wrapping himself in the red cloak. “What if they hate me?” Tzipporah looked back at him with the same smile, pushing open the flap of the tent. He could see the sun was setting.

“Don’t worry, they don’t bite.” She replied, taking his hand gently and leading him outside. “Besides, it’s almost time for our nightly feast, and I’m sure you’re starving.” Moses stomach growled loudly as it answered for him.

* * *

Two weeks had gone by. The palace had become quiet. His mother would stay in her chambers, Rameses had rarely seen her. He would often find his father staring at murals of their family. He would lay his hand flat on the picture of Moses, touching his forehead to it, and whispering something Rameses could not make out, and did not want to. Rameses had begun sleeping in his brother’s bed, each time he woke reaching over to the other side of the bed, but his brother’s small, delicate hands were nowhere to be found.

Rameses and his mother had had to get on their knees and beg for Seti to send a search party. He had been hesitant to do so, convinced that Moses would stroll back through the gates and back into the palace, sliding back into his role as their brother and son, but not without serious consequences.

_“When he returns, both of you will be in a monumental amount of trouble.” Seti had told Rameses one night. His firstborn would gladly take any sort of punishment if it meant having Moses back._

Rameses made his way to the throne room, hearing what sounded like crying. He opened the doors and his legs grew weak.

He saw his mother knelt to the ground, hugging an all-too-familiar wig to her face. Although she had lost her composure, her crying was quiet and gentle, her tears falling from her eyes and almost sparkling in the morning light. The way a queen should cry.

“I am so sorry, your majesties. We searched for days.” A soldier said.

“I am sure you did. Thank you for your hard work. Although he is gone, at least we have parts of him still.” Seti said, his voice muffled as his hand covered his mouth, as if contemplating.

“What else did you find?” Rameses asked, walking briskly up to the group of men. They produced a wrapped bundle of items that turned out to be his brother’s arm bands, and his sandals that were decorated with drops of blood. He forced out a laugh.

“This does not mean he is dead. He probably shed all of this for a reason. The metal probably got too hot from the sun and burned his skin. Look,” he held up a sandal, his smile tight. “this is in tatters. What’s the point in wearing ruined shoes?”

The men shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Rameses’ gaze.

“You all are dismissed.” Seti said. The men quickly left. One stopped in the corridor.

“Pharaoh, pardon me if I am speaking out of turn, but…” the man looked down, and then back up at the Pharaoh.

“As mischievous as he was, everyone enjoyed the prince’s kind and joyful nature.”

Seti said nothing, and the man bowed one last time and left.

Everyone was quiet for an eternity. Rameses felt like the walls were closing in on him. He was living a nightmare.

“Well,” his mother said, sniffling and regaining her composure, “although we have no body to bury, I would still like to have him put in a tomb.” Seti nodded, taking his hand away from his mouth and looking straight ahead. “I will discuss with the priests today and begin plans. I hope we can have it done by next week.”

“I… how can you both give up this easily? Moses is still alive out there, and I know it.” Rameses’ voice was heavy with anger. Seti sighed.

“I am king. I am Egypt. I will decide if one is dead or not. I have.” He looked at his eldest - now only – son. “Rameses, losing someone you care deeply for is a pain you will always carry. You must learn to accept it.”

“We may even hurt more than you,” Tuya began as she stroked the wig’s hair. “having a child is like having your heart ripped from your chest. You see it learn to walk, talk, laugh, and come to understand how much you love it.” She whimpered, as she began to cry louder this time. “When your heart stops beating, you stop as well. Unable to move back or forwards.”

Rameses paused, muted by the feeling of knives being plunged into his stomach.

“May I at least keep these things until the burial?” he asked. His father nodded. “It’s the least I can do to lessen the blow.”

With these final words, Rameses walked like the undead to his chambers, gripping the bundle of mementos tightly, the gold bands clinking together with every step he took up the stairs.

When he entered, he unwrapped the cloth and placed the only pieces of his brother he had left onto his bed. He muffled his mouth with a linen cloth and wailed and sobbed until his eyes were dry and his throat felt like it had been set alight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm s sorry it's been so long. The stress in my life has made it difficult to find inspiration. This chapter may be short but I'm working on a few longer ones.

Ramses gulped down what was left of his wine and then tossed the goblet away, watching as it rolled around the throne room. The funeral talk had been unbearable to listen to, and after the first meeting with the priests he informed his parents that he could not be involved in it anymore. They understood.

Drinking wine on the throne had become a daily occurrence for Rameses. He would sit there, and practice sitting how a Pharaoh would, how his father did. He would practice different things kings do but would soon run out of ideas. The last time he saw his father even _in_ the throne room was when he informed everyone that Moses was gone.

_Moses_. He cursed himself of the memory of that dreadful day. He drank to escape that feeling of despair, not feel it all over again. The wine never helped, but he could not stop himself in trying to make it work. He looked out at the view of Memphis.

His father’s grand statue towered above other architectural wonders. He told himself when he became regent that he would conjure plans for a grand statue of him and his brother on their chariots. He imagined him and Moses riding into war together, expanding Egypt’s borders. He imagined Moses meeting his children, and some day him meeting Moses’ children, and spending their lives together, growing old and dying happy. But none of those things would come to be now.

“Rameses?” He heard a timid voice call out into the darkness. He had to close one eye to see properly. It was Nefertari. He kicked himself for just now realizing that he had not given her any communication for a full week.

“Hello.” He slurred. She marched up to him and swatted him on the shoulder.

“I don’t hear from you for a full week and now I finally find you, slumped over drunk in the throne room?” She scolded him. “Really, Rameses, I’m surprised at you. You’ve never treated me like this before.” He looked up, angry at her for the first time in his life.

“I’m terribly sorry that my devastation over my brother’s death has caused you so much upset.” He said sarcastically.

“That’s not what I am saying!” She huffed. “Rameses, we are to be wed someday. You and I both know that. You really need to communicate things to me if we are to be effective rulers.”

Rameses scowled. The last thing he cared about right now was Nefertari’s feelings. What about _his_ feelings? His _brother’s_ feelings. He said nothing, getting up and gently pushing her out of the way, stumbling down the hall. He did not know how to tell her that nothing and no one could comfort him. He was stopped by her tiny hands wrapping around his arm.

“Rameses, _please._ I am scared for you.” She had tears in her eyes. He sighed and pulled her into an embrace. He and Moses had known Nefertari for years. It had been decided early on that she would be his wife. He did not mind the idea. She was kind, intelligent, and not too bad looking, either. But without Moses’ comfort there, he did not know if he could be an effective Pharaoh and husband.

“I’m sorry, Nef.” He said, rubbing her back, “But nothing can fix what has been done. I fear I will never return to myself before he died.” She wrapped her hands around his neck. “You don’t have to,” she said, “but you do have to let me be there for you. Through all of it.” He gave a small laugh.

“Come>” He said, drunkenly leading her to his chambers. Although it had never been said aloud, she knew what Rameses was. She told herself that she would keep that secret for as long as she lived. In marriage they would be bound, but not in body. She knew they both would look elsewhere. Being queen was worth the secrecy, and she doubted she would ever walk away from the chance.

However, her most doubtful moments were when Ramses would shove her face into his bedsheets, and do that awful, _painful_ thing while moaning someone else’s name.


	6. Chapter 6

Rameses and Nefertari sat on their marital bed, an uncomfortable silence filling the dark.

The wedding had been quick, a short celebration filled with forced smiles and rivers of wine. Seti congratulated them both. Tuya could only make a quick appearance before returning to her chambers. She had recently started fainting if she was out of bed for too long. When the doctors informed the father and son that they did not know of a remedy, Rameses’ face fell and he looked to his father, whose face showed fear. Something he did not know his father was capable of.

As the party came to an end, Rameses had very reluctantly led Nefertari to his chambers. The quicker they made an heir, the better. But neither of them could make the first move, so they were stuck on the bed fully clothed and unmoving.

“So…” Rameses had no idea where he was going with this. He sighed in frustration and shook his head. “Listen, Nef, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I think I have a solution to our problems.”

“ _Your_ problems.” She retorted. He rolled his eyes.

“We both know that I cannot lie with a woman. Not to say you are repulsive in any way, it is quite the opposite. But I cannot help my feelings.” He touched her shoulder and she looked at him. “I’m only trying to do what’s best for all of Egypt, and for your feelings.” Her pride fell away, and she touched his hand.

“I’m listening.” She replied.

“Good.” Rameses looked up to the ceiling. “So, the dynasty needs an heir, yes? Well, we will give them that. I think I can muster that much. In return for providing me with children, I give you total freedom to do whatever,” Rameses looked at her, “with _whom_ ever you want.” Nefertari made a face of contemplation.

“Fine.” She agreed. “But I expect to be showered with gifts in return for bearing your children and keeping your secret. And you shall have whomever you want, as well? Because I refuse to let you do that horrible thing to me anymore.” Rameses shook his head

“You know that no one can replace Moses in my heart. I cannot lie with anyone else. A man more beautiful and sweet does not exist. It is a burden I will carry forever.” He replied. Nefertari drew him into an embrace.

“Rameses, you really are so gentle.” She whispered. He smiled up at her.

“Now,” He said, “let us get this over with. The sooner I have a son the sooner you can frolic around with guardsmen behind my back.” Nefertari laughed as she removed her clothes.

* * *

The next morning Rameses awoke to his new bride absent beside him. He looked up at her from the bed, her face full of worry.

“What is it?” He said as he quickly redressed. She put a hand on his cheek. Her eyes were glassy.

“Your mother is dying.” She whimpered. Rameses ran past her and through the palace, to his parents’ chambers. He shoved past the priests and medicine men, falling beside the bed. He looked across from him and saw his father. The man’s makeup was smudged across his face, his eyes dark and tired with that same fear he had shown not too long ago. Seti had his wife’s hand to his mouth, kissing it tenderly.

“Darling, do not weep for me.” She said to her husband. “I am sure we will meet again in the Field of Reeds.” Her husband did not answer.

“Mother.” Rameses whispered. She turned to him with a serene smile on her face.

“Oh, my beautiful Rameses. I love you more than you will ever know. I will always be with you.” She sighed. Rameses’ bottom lip began to quiver. He watched as her tired eyes moved beyond him. She grinned.

“Moses? Moses, is that you?” She said weakly. Rameses and his father looked behind him but saw no one. Her son turned back to look at her, but she was still looking behind him with her brow furrowed.

“What is he saying? I can’t hear him.” She rasped. Rameses’ eyes darted back and forth rapidly, looking for an answer.

“He says that he loves you.” Seti choked out. He stood up and kissed his wife on the forehead, cradling her face. “He says you were a wonderful mother.” Tuya began to weep.

“That is all I ever wanted to hear.” She said as her chest heaved. Seti buried his face into her wig.

They were all silent. Seti drew his face back, turning his wife’s chin so he could gaze upon her beauty one last time. His eyes were wet with tears. “What am I going to do without you? We talked about this. You were not supposed to leave first.”

“Sometimes, the gods have other plans.” Tuya turned to her son and beckoned him closer, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“How blessed I was to live a life with such a wonderful husband and children.” She looked up to the ceiling. “So bright…” She let out a long, rattling breath.

They all waited for her to say something else, but she never did. Her eyes were now vacant, and she was limp. Seti buried his face into his wife’s chest, gripping her shoulders with shaky hands.

Rameses stood up and walked out of the room. His knees gave out underneath him and he grabbed the wall to steady himself. His ears were filled with the sound of his mother’s last breath. His world was spinning violently out of control.

Falling to the ground, he punched the stone over and over again, feeling his knuckles burn from the impact. He fell back onto the floor and curled into a ball. He needed Moses.

He screamed his brother’s name until it turned to blubbering. He wanted to be Pharaoh no longer, nor did he want to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really glad I've gotten so many comments asking me to continue. I'm really enjoying writing this. In all honesty, and not to spoil anything, I am planning for this work to go beyond the Prince of Egypt canon ending. Whether that be until the end of the brothers' lives or not I don't know yet, but please stay tuned.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to make up for the previously short ones, enjoy this meal of a chapter!

It had been nearly a year since Moses had arrived in Midian. He often sat back and looked over the camp in disbelief at the blessing Tzipporah had given him. Never in his life had he had so many friends. He had come to understand that love took many different forms. He had loved his father and mother and brother in ways different from each other, but now he had experienced a new love.

He had friends now. Men like brothers, who he would hunt and gather food with, joining them in drinking and playfully wrestling late at night, sharing laughs. He told them stories of his life as a royal, and they did not criticize or admonish him for his past.

He would sometimes join the women at the looms, helping weave fabric into colorful tapestries and kneading dough with them and they would giggle, entertained at his eagerness to help. Moses developed a bond with all the children in the camp, playing games with them, giving them treats and consoling them when they cried.

He had also developed a bond with the High Priestess herself. He and Tzipporah had fallen in love after just a few months and the two shared a tent. He helped her tend to the sheep and taught the hunters combat techniques he had learned in his warrior training at the palace, earning him somewhat higher status. She trusted the safety of her three sisters to him. He had come to love them like family.

“Ready to go?” Farid asked. Moses nodded, hopping onto his camel. “I think we should try our hand at catching an elephant again. Maybe we’ll be luckier this time.” All the men laughed.

“I’ll believe it when I see it!” Hussein replied.

“I think luck is on our side today, there’s no harm in trying.” Moses replied with a playful grin.

“Grab some more rope then, if you’re so sure.” Saif retorted.

“Sure thing.” Moses answered, running off and returning shortly with a large bundle. “Alright men, let’s move out.”

They whooped and hollered in excitement as they galloped off into the desert.

* * *

Farid and Moses hid behind a rock, peeking over at the small herd of elephants just a few yards away. The two were the best hunters of the group, and Farid had told the others to stay back, ready to come to their aid. Hussein, the youngest and most rambunctious had protested, arguing that _he_ was the best.

“You’re also the most reckless.” Moses retorted. Hussein huffed in response, reluctantly obeying.

Farid and Moses eyed the giant beasts in front of them. Three adults and two babies.

“There’s five of them.” Farid whispered. “Which one should we pick?”

“See the largest one standing apart from the rest? That’s the male. The females always stay close to their young. We should go for him.” Moses replied.

“Why not one of the small ones? They’d be much easier to kill.” Farid asked. Moses shook his head and turned to him.

“The mothers are fiercely protective of their young, they’d be harder to corner and kill. We’d surely be trampled to death if we tried.” Moses said.

“Good point.” Farid nodded. “So, what’s the plan?”

“I’ll create a distraction and make him chase after me. You’ll follow behind, and the Hussein and Saif will surprise him from the front, and you’ll do the same from the back.” Moses explained.

“What if the two mothers chase after us?” Farid inquired.

“They’d rather flee and get their babies to safety. Just trust me.” Moses turned to him and grinned. “If this goes wrong, I promise you can have all the ale you want when we get back.”

“You’re the boss.” Farid sighed. Moses looked back at the elephants and snuck around the side of the rock, a few large stones in hand.

“Alright, here I go!” He shouted.

Farid held his breath as the herd looked to the Hebrew. Moses taunted the male who flinched and stamped as the rocks hit his face. It soon let out a loud trumpeting sound and was shortly hot on Moses’ tail. Farid had always been impressed at the man’s incredible speed and agility.

“Farid, now!” Moses shouted over his shoulder. Farid sprinted behind the behemoth, pulling out his bow and arrow and with precise shots piercing its back. The motion of reloading the quiver felt easy and automatic as adrenaline coursed through his veins.

When they were almost in front of the two men who had stayed back, they jumped out from behind their hiding spot, Saif with a razor-sharp obsidian spear and Hussein with his own bow and arrow.

Hussein felt his stomach flip in fear as the elephant became closer and closer, desperately firing arrows at it, barely missing Moses who was laughing like a madman.

Just when the creature got almost too close, Saif used his incredible aim to strike it between the eyes. The sharpness of the obsidian thrust the spear deep, shattering its skull. The elephant quickly became weak and fell onto the ground with a loud thud. Moses slid to a halt and grabbed a sharp blade from Hussein’s hilt.

“Now to finish you off, beast.” He thrust the blade into the side of the elephant’s head, letting out a long, tired breath as its eyes grew hollow and let the air out of its lungs one final time.

After a few moments of silence, they all began to laugh.

“Alright Moses,” Farid said. “How do we get this thing home?”

After a pause, Moses wrung his hands and laughed nervously.

“I didn’t necessarily plan for that part.” He said. They groaned.

* * *

_After giving Moses a stern talking to about how reckless he had been, Farid decided the best course of action would be to cut the elephant into pieces and spread it out between each camel._

_“They can’t pull it all, so only bring the meatiest parts.” He had instructed, and so they did. Farid asked Moses why he was bringing the tusks with him._

_“In Egypt,” Moses explained through grunts as he readied his camel’s load “ivory carvings are a status symbol. I’d like to see if I can carve something for Tzipporah.”_

_“How lucky she is to have you.” Farid said, the words’ intentions somewhere between teasing and sincerity. Moses paused for a moment, looking far away in the direction of Midian._

_“No, it is I who is lucky to have her.”_

“Well,” Moses sighed, “I think it’s safe to say that went wonderfully.” As they reached the edge of the settlement he hopped off his camel and looked back at the men who were clearly exhausted from the trek back.

“I have never in my life been this tired.” Hussein groaned, and his camel grunted, almost nodding its head in agreement.

Moses’ attention was turned away from the hunters as he felt Tzipporah’s hand on his shoulder. He felt his chest swell with pride as he saw her wide eyes look over their prize.

“I am speechless.” She said, laughing in disbelief. “Moses, this can feed us for at least two weeks.” Tzipporah marveled. A small crowd had started to form around them.

“Does that mean me and the others can have a few days off?” He asked with a grin. She laughed and pulled him into a hug.

“Of _course_. You are so amazing.” She whispered into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and they both were silent for a few moments, until Moses felt someone tug at his cloak. He looked down and saw Jethrodiadah, Tzipporah’s youngest sister.

“Did _you_ do this?” She asked in disbelief. Moses had always found joy in her admiration of him. He pulled away from Tzipporah and crouched down to meet her height.

“Well, I had some help, but it _was_ my idea.” He gloated.

“Was it scary?” Ajolidoforah asked.

“Was it fun?” Ephora added.

“Yes, and yes.” Moses answered, looking at both. The three girls decided that these were good enough answers and ran to join the others marveling at the size of the meat.

“Oh, that’s right! I have to show you something.” Moses said to Tzipporah, retrieving the ivory tusks. She let out a small gasp.

“Ivory?” She asked. “For me?” He nodded.

“Well, yes, it is for you, but not in this state. I want to try my hand at making you something.” He said. After a moment she looked up at him and smiled.

“Thank you.”

* * *

“Man, I am _stuffed_.” Moses plopped down onto the tent floor. “I haven’t had a feast like that since the night you and I first met.” He let out a laugh as Tzipporah swatted at him.

“I’m so glad that you can remember the scariest moments of my life so fondly.” She said, holding back a smirk and laying down beside him. His face had fallen.

“Are you thinking about him?” She asked.

“I just remembered that today is his birthday. I can’t believe I forgot.” He sighed.

“Did you forget, or did you just try not to remember?” Tzipporah suggested. He nodded.

Tzipporah knew many things, but two things she knew more than anything: she was second place in his heart, and Rameses was first.

At first it made her angry. Why was a man as kind, sweet, and caring as Moses in love with a man who had as much blood on his hands as Pharaoh himself? But she soon realized that Moses did not know either. Every answer he gave either did not make sense or did not seem good enough, so Tzipporah decided that it was not her place to understand. The only place she wanted to be was under Moses’ arm.

“I am so sorry if it hurts you to talk about this.” He said, looking at her.

“Of course not,” She shushed, only half lying, “you spent your entire life with him. I understand.”

He smiled and held her hand. For the first time in a long while she took note of how different he looked now compared to when he first arrived. Sporting a beard and long hair, his skin was now freckled by the sun, and he was gaunter and leaner, older now. He hardly looked like the baby prince she had rescued from the desert just a year ago.

“But now I am going to spend the rest of my life with _you_ , and I am glad that I am.” He stroked her cheek and she turned into his touch.

“Well you wouldn’t be able to leave, even if you wanted to.” She whispered through a wobbly smirk.

“And why is that?” Moses asked with a raised brow. Tzipporah’s eyes grew misty and she rested Moses hand on her stomach.

“Because I am with child.” She said.

Moses felt the world around him end and begin again, crying from joy for the first time in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:
> 
> 1\. I decided that I wanted Tzipporah to be High Priestess and not have Jethro in the story, I felt it gave an interesting aspect to her character.
> 
> 2\. I also wanted Midian to be more of a hunter gatherer kind of society along with herding sheep. I did as much research as I could on weapons and hunting techniques.
> 
> 3\. Farid, Saif, and Hussein are all side character OCs that I created just to help the Midian camp seem less empty.
> 
> 4\. Jethro's (Canonical) children, in order from oldest to youngest are:
> 
> Tzipporah -> Ephorah -> Ajolidophorah -> Jethrodiadah
> 
> Just in case you were confused :) thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DJ Khaled voice: anotha one! Now I feel like we're getting somewhere.

When Amun was born, Rameses fell in love for the second time in his life.

It was a different one, the only physical affection being sweet embraces and gentle kisses, rocking his son and cooing to him in a way that delighted Nefertari and confused his Father. But Rameses had promised himself when he heard of the boon to be that he would give his son the father he had always wanted.

He found inspiration from his mother’s tenderness, though he dreaded the fact that one day he would have to learn how to scold his son, doubtful he could do it.

“I’ll do it for you, you have enough on your plate already.” Nefertari assured him.

Seti passed shortly after Amun’s birth. Rameses did not weep for the loss. He had come to resent the man when his mind began to slip. The elderly Pharaoh would wander the halls of the palace, calling out for his deceased wife.

“Where is my Queen?” He would ask. When his son told him of her passing, Seti would become irate at his son for making up such a horrible lie. Rameses had soon had enough.

“She is relaxing on the Nile, Father.” He would say. Seti took that as a good answer but would ask the same question just hours later. Every time his father spoke, he was reminded that the most important woman of his life was gone.

“Do you miss him?” Nefertari asked the night of his coronation. She did not mean Seti.

“Every day of my life.” Rameses would sigh. “But I shall carry on, I have Amun to think about.”

“Maybe he will come back some day.” She would say softly.

_Maybe someday_ , Rameses thought. But the reassurance became hollow. Moses was dead in the desert somewhere.

The new Pharaoh would have nightmares of his younger brother’s death. Did he starve or die of heat stroke? Was he killed by vagrants? Did he cry out for his older brother? Was he scared? Some part of Rameses hoped he had been, to protect his own self esteem.

* * *

“Pharaoh, you should really consider being stricter with Amun.” Hotep said one day with a frown.

“He will be Pharaoh someday, and he should learn the ways of his future title soon.” Huy chimed in.

“He _just_ said his first word.” Rameses scoffed, waving the suggestion away. “I am the Morning and the Evening Star. A god among men.” He narrowed his eyes. “ _My word_ is law. Also, I suggest you start calling my son by his proper title.”

Hotep turned and walked away, grumbling as Huy followed closely behind him.

Rameses made his way through the typical day, with meetings, drawing blueprints, settling disputes, and watching the slaves do their work. His brow twitched as he thought of the recent encounter with Moses’ rat siblings.

What were their names? Miriam and Aaron, he reminded himself. He finally had the power to interrogate them, something Seti had refused to do. Aaron was too terrified to speak and Miriam called him a monster.

“Where is he? I know that you know.” Rameses hissed.

“I do not know.” She glared at him. “But I pray every day that he has survived and met with God. I believe he will come to deliver us to the Promised Land soon.”

“If you are so sure it exists, why don’t you find it for yourselves?” The Pharaoh spat in return.

With that they were thrown into the desert and he felt anger bubble in his stomach as they trudged away. He had hoped it would bring him happiness. It did not.

* * *

“Baba!” Amun babbled as he ran to his father, still unsteady on his feet.

“Hello, my sweet, how was your day?” Rameses scooped him up and smiled. His son grinned back, the few teeth he had giving him a silly look, but a cute one all the same.

“Baba.” Amun replied with a giggle.

“Why do you talk to him like that?” Nefertari chuckled as she shook her head. “You know he can’t understand you.”

“I keep thinking one day he’ll surprise me and talk in complete sentences.” Rameses replied. “A genius just like his father.” His wife rolled her eyes.

The king and queen talked deep into the night until Amun fell asleep in his father’s lap. He was a heavy sleeper, so his parents did not have to worry about keeping quiet.

“He’s already in our chambers, why don’t we put him to bed with us?” Rameses asked. Nefertari huffed.

“You coddle him too much.” She scolded but gave in soon. She loved her only son, but she knew her husband loved him more. Amun was all the man had.

Rameses drifted to sleep quickly as his son’s warmth spread to his chest. Sometimes he doubted if he could ever let his son become Pharaoh. He would slip so far away if he did.

* * *

On this night, Rameses had worked late and trudged to his son’s chambers. He was sore from practice combat.

He had turned to swordplay to release stress. Before Moses left, the only two ways that helped were talking with him and being on top of him.

The pharaoh entered Amun’s chambers with a quiet shuffle. As he pulled back the covers he felt a shiver when he noticed the cradle was empty. He scurried to his own chambers and saw Nefertari sleeping alone. He decided not to wake her. The time he would spend consoling her was time spent not finding Amun.

“Have you seen Amun?” He asked a guard after bounding down the staircase. The man made a noise of surprise. Rarely were guards spoken to by Pharaoh.

“N-no sir!” He sputtered. Rameses scowled.

“What use are you then, if you cannot keep eyes on my son when no one else is?” Rameses grumbled as he made his way further into the palace. The guard was too stunned to answer.

Where could he be? The palace was a city in its own right, limestone floors seemingly endless. Rameses cursed his penchant for opulence.

The man checked the kitchens, surprising the cooks, and the banquet hall. No Amun. His breathing became quicker as room after room was vacant.

The last place he had not checked was the room of hieroglyphs that told their entire history. Moses would go there often to clear his thoughts, filling his mind with memories and pushing troubles away. Moses could recite the portraits by heart, and Rameses could not even remember what their childhood looked like even though it was etched on every wall.

He looked all around and noticed a soft light emanating past the narrow hallway into the final room and breathed a sigh of relief when his son’s small silhouette came into view.

“Amun, good gracious, how on Earth did you make it back here?” He scolded halfheartedly. He quickly snatched the torch the boy was holding away and ruffled his hair. “I was worried.” Amun ignored the question.

“Baba,” the heir said with bright eyes. He turned to the mural in front of them and touched his hand to it. “Who?”

Rameses took a moment to realize that his son had just said his second word and then looked up at the mural. Amun had his hand pressed flat against Moses’ likeness. A tribute to one of their many chariot races. Though they drew his father’s ire, it was a precious memory all the same. Moses’ mischief was unforgettable.

“That is your uncle.” Rameses replied with a sigh. Amun looked back to him.

“Who?” He repeated. Rameses knew what he meant. _What was his name_? He had asked.

“His name is Moses. It means ‘to pull from the Nile,” which is where your grandmother found him.” He shook his head. “Such an amazing story.”

“Moded.” Amun replied with a smile. His third word like music.

“Yes. I loved him very much.” Rameses replied. He scooped his son up and placed the torch in its sconce. “Let’s get you to bed, young one.”

* * *

After soothing his son to sleep with a gentle lullaby he found himself in Moses’ room. He had not set foot in it in a long time. He wandered over to a small painting hidden behind a vase.

Moses had shown it to him. It was a tribute to the first embrace that they had shared so many years ago. It was messily done with ocher paint, and his younger brother had had to explain to him the details.

_“It’s us, together.” He explained, fidgeting nervously as he did when discussing such intimate things. A blush crept across his cheeks. “Sometimes, I don’t show it, but I really do love you. I think about you constantly. It’s confusing, odd, and so abnormal. I’m not the best lover, but I will try to be for you.”_

_Rameses pulled him close and touched their foreheads together. Moses snorted as his older brother’s dark silken locks of youth tickled his nose._

_“Well, you know how patient I am with you, and this is a wonderful consolation.”_

Rameses cursed himself for being stupid enough to go look at it, thinking it would make Moses reappear beside him. The Pharaoh would give him a shout and perhaps even strike him. But the anger would subside to guilt and desperation. Moses would become his co-ruler and he and Moses and Nefertari would all love Amun and raise him together and find a way to have a child of their own, no matter if it took groveling to the gods.

Rameses pried himself away from the cold stone floor and to his bedroom, laying on his marital bed. He brought Nefertari close to him and imagined the lotus and cinnamon scent of his beloved Moses and held tears back as he forced himself to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Gonna try and post a chapter every Saturday. Very excited where this story is going, it's getting easier to see where this road is taking me for the plot. Cheers!

Moses stretched as he woke, his bones popping. The labor had made him strong at first, but he was starting to feel worn. He wondered if this was what his father felt. The man had been stiff and slow since before Moses’ adoption. When the river child was brought into the royal family Seti was forty and his wife eighteen, quite an age gap, but not out of the ordinary.

Moses turned to his own wife who was still asleep. She had always been a deep sleeper, and hard to wake up in the morning. He moved the blanket to reveal her swollen belly. His child would soon be born.

“Only a few more days.” The midwife had said. She was a stern woman, but had delivered countless children, so the couple trusted her.

“I have a feeling it will be a boy.” Tzipporah said. She looked at Moses. “Have you thought of any names?”

“I have a few in mind,” Moses replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But I think we should wait until he is born to decide.”

“It will be a girl. I am sure of it.” The midwife chimed in. Tzipporah and Moses dismissed her words.

Moses smiled at the memory and kissed his wife and her stomach. He threw on his red cloak and grabbed his staff, heading toward the herd of sheep just a few yards away.

* * *

Moses sat back and looked over the sheep, the mass of fur looking like large cloud. Two ewes had delivered lambs that day. He was always amazed at how pure white they came out, much brighter than their greyed mothers.

He scratched his head and felt the tips of his fingers become wet with sweat. He reminded himself to ask Farid to cut his hair soon. Tzipporah did it only once and never again. He had the scars to prove it.

“E-excuse me, sir?”

Moses jumped when he heard the male voice behind him. He paused for a moment. It was not a familiar voice. They had experienced trouble with con artists posing as beggars before. Nothing new. He turned to face him but could not make words leave his mouth.

They both stared at each other for a long while.

“Moses?” Aaron said softly. “Is that… you?”

“Aaron? What… what are you doing here?” Moses replied.

Miriam peered out behind her brother, unusually timid.

“Moses?” She mimicked her brother’s disbelief.

The three siblings stood there in silence, the only sound being the occasional wind and baaing of sheep.

“How did you find me?” Moses finally broke the silence.

“It wasn’t intentional, truly.” Miriam replied. She looked exhausted. “Rameses banished us from Egypt. We’ve wandered the desert for days.”

“Please, Moses. We need water. That’s all we want, and we’ll be on our way.” Aaron fell to his knees, and Miriam followed him.

Moses swallowed a bitter taste. He had forgotten Rameses was a real person and not a mirage. He had so many questions but held them back as he frowned sadly at his two biological siblings groveling at his feet.

He was a prince no longer and had not been for a long while. Tzipporah had all but beaten the entitlement out of him. No one would or should bow to him ever again.

“Please,” he said softly, “Come to your feet. Do not bow for me.”

The two looked up at him in hesitation, slowly getting up. Moses forced a wobbly smile.

“Let’s get you two some food and water.”

* * *

“Moses!” Tzipporah hissed. “Why didn’t you tell me you had _real_ siblings?!”

Moses bit his tongue. He _hated_ the term. Rameses was as real as the other two, even if the prince was not bound to him by blood.

“I didn’t think I would ever see them again.” He explained. “So, I didn’t think I had to tell you.”

His wife crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

“I’m mad at you.” She said flatly. He sighed.

“I understand. Feel free to be. But, don’t get so mad that you go into labor.” He replied.

She did not answer, sitting on a large pillow and pouting.

Moses shook his head and thought it best to leave her alone. She rarely stayed mad for long.

He made his way over to the two Hebrews and saw them sat in a circle with Tzipporah’s own siblings. Jethrodiadah waved him over.

“Moses! Over here!” She squeaked in her high-pitched voice. He joined the with an unsure gate and sat in the circle across from Miriam.

“Miriam was just telling us how you came to be a prince!” Ajolidoforah said.

“Did you know you almost got eaten by a hippo _and_ a crocodile?” Ephora grinned at him with eager eyes. Moses’ mouth fell open and he looked at Miriam.

“It’s true!” She replied. “I followed the basket until you made it into the palace.”

“Moses, I don’t know how you survived.” Aaron gave a small chuckle. “You’re the luckiest man I know.”

Moses smiled at the thought. He began to relax as they talked late into the night about this and that. When the sun fell and the moon rose, nearly all the camp tucked itself in for the night. Now it was just the three Hebrews alone in the dark. Miriam began to tell Moses stories of his birth mother. How beautiful and sweet and loving she was.

“Moses, she loved you so much.” Miriam sighed with a sad smile. “I hope you can come to love her, even if she is not here anymore.”

Moses looked down at his feet.

“Maybe some day I will, but I don’t think that I will ever love her like I did the woman that I have called Mother for nearly twenty years. The same goes for my father.” He mumbled.

“I will never understand how you could still love such cruel people.” Miriam sighed and looked to the sky. “They were monsters.” Moses’ head snapped up to meet her eyes.

“What do you mean ‘were?’” He asked, coming out louder than he had wanted.

“Miriam!” Aaron scolded his sister with a hard look.

“Moses… I am so sorry. They have passed on. Rameses is Pharaoh now. He has a son as well.” She said, guilt washing over her. Why did she always have to be the bearer of bad news? “I understand if you’re angry.” Her face wash awash with sadness as she met her youngest brother’s eyes that shone bright with tears.

“Moses…” Aaron began, but trailed off as soon as he realized he had no idea how to comfort his brother. Moses anxiously rubbed the back of his neck.

“How did they die?” He asked as he stared at his feet.

“It was never officially announced, but you know how people talk and rumors spread fast.” Miriam said. “We learned that she became sick a short while after you left. Seti fell apart soon and lost his mind. He followed behind her quickly.”

“So, it’s my fault.” Moses choked out. “I am the awful son who ran away from the family that raised him and killed them.” He gritted his teeth.

“Moses, no.” Aaron finally said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Listen…” He paused, thinking of his next words. “Seti was old, and the fact that your mother loved you that much is not your fault.”

“You are a good person, Moses.” Miriam said, taking his hand. “I believe it was God’s will, what happened.”

“Moses, God has a plan for you. A plan that does not involve Egypt, or Seti, or Tuya, or even Rameses.” She smiled, but he cut her off before she could even finish.

“You know, I really am sorry that the two of you suffered for so long at my family’s hand, believe me.” He glared at the two, shrugging their hands off and standing up. “But I will not sit here and listen to you carry on about how some cruel God has a plan for me.”

“Cruel?!” Miriam shouted, hopping up. “Your _Father_ was the cruel one. Or do you not remember?” She dug her finger into his chest, and he swatted it away.

“I do not remember him as you do.” Moses said curtly. “He was not a perfect man, no. But he was kind enough to take me in and raise me as his own.” Aaron joined them on his feet and attempted weakly to diffuse the tension.

“Moses, y- “

“No.” He cut his sister off again, bringing his face close to hers. “Pharaoh Seti was my father, Queen Tuya was my mother, and Rameses the Second is my brother.”

“But Rameses is doing the same thing now, only worse!” Miriam said. “Moses, surely you cannot love a man who brings so much pain and devastation into the world.”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“You won’t understand.” Moses shoved past them and headed towards his flock. Miriam tried to go after him, but Aaron held her back.

“Miriam, the man just found out his parents are dead, and you decide to follow that up with a lecture on how he shouldn’t love them?” He asked sarcastically. He cursed as she nearly writhed out of his grip.

“Aaron, no! You know it’s not right.” She replied with a grunt.

The two continued to wrestle and argue until Tzipporah’s voice startled them.

“What in the world is going on?” She asked with her arms crossed over her pregnant belly.

“Nothing important.” Aaron assured her with a nervous laugh. “Come Miriam, let’s get to bed.”

Tzipporah shifted awkwardly as she watched the two Hebrews fight with one another. She looked ahead and saw Moses walking towards the sheep. She could sense he was upset.

“What did you say to Moses?’ She asked finally. Aaron gave up and let Miriam go. He threw his hands up in defeat and walked toward the hastily made tent, grumbling about how much of a troublemaker his sister could be.

Tzipporah turned her attention to the short girl in front of her with a raised brow, silently telling her to explain herself.

“Moses is upset with me, but all I did was tell him the truth.” Miriam said in frustration.

“The truth? Didn’t you tell him that ages ago? That’s the whole reason that he ran out into the desert like a fool.” Tzipporah was puzzled.

“No,” Miriam shook her head, “I told him of his parents’ death.”

“Oh, no. Poor thing, I’d better go console him.” Tzipporah made her way to her husband but felt Miriam tug at her wrist and looked back. The woman was crying.

“I don’t understand.” She sniffled. “Why does he get to be so sad about the deaths of the people who killed his people? Who killed his real mother? Why is everyone just okay with that?”

Tzipporah stayed silent, sensing she was not done.

“Moses’ true people, _our_ true people, have been slaughtered for years by Egypt. Why won’t he cry for them?” Miriam hiccupped and covered her face with her hands. “All he thinks about is that cursed Rameses. How on earth can he love such a horrible, worthless, awful man? A man who is killing tenfold the amount his father did?” Miriam sniffled and sighed. “Has Moses always been so selfish? So foolish?”

It took every ounce of Tzipporah’s strength not to strike the woman then and there. Moses? Selfish for loving his brother? Clearly Miriam did not know the gravity of what she was saying. Tzipporah sighed, realizing she would have to push her anger aside and adopt the role of a kind educator.

“Miriam, sit with me.” She said gently. She took Miriam’s hands and sat her down, wiping the tears from her face. “Listen to what I say, and do not speak until I am done.” Miriam nodded.

“I know that from the outside it’s easy to be angry. Seti was an awful man, and so is his son. But awful people are still people, who love and cherish things and want to be loved and cherished in return.” Tzipporah explained. “Love is not tied to morality, though it may seem to be. It is complex and sometimes scary. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do.” Miriam said weakly. “I guess… Rameses must have been a very wonderful brother for Moses to be able to look past all of his faults.”

“Yes,” Tzipporah smiled through Miriam and into the night. “Moses has told me much of their relationship. They had a love that not many can understand.”

Tzipporah took the silence as her saying too much. She darted her eyes around, looking for a way out of the trap she had set herself.

“I see. So, they were lovers, then?” Miriam said. Tzipporah felt surprised as she saw the other woman had a small smile up her face, tears now dry.

“You cannot tell him I told you. I think I’m the only one he ever has told.” Tzipporah sighed. “Miriam, Egypt is quite different from the rest of the world. It’s not uncommon to find two of the same sex in love with one another.”

“Well, I know _that_.” Miriam replied with a laugh. “It was never talked about, but I knew of a few same sex couples in Goshen. Love comes to every person in a different way.”

“Oh, I feel so terrible now. Can you take me to him, so I can apologize?”

Tzipporah smiled back and nodded, pulling her up and leading her into the desert.

* * *

_“How many do you think there are, Rameses?” Moses asked, looking up at the sky. His brother scoffed._

_“You know I don’t know the answer to that. It’s immeasurable.” He replied. “Quit daydreaming and come along. If I don’t get you home soon Father will have my head.”_

_“You’re just too embarrassed to say you don’t know.” Moses replied with a grin. Rameses narrowed his eyes._

_“Are you saying you think I’m stupid?” He asked. Moses clicked his tongue in response._

_“I don’t think_ I’m _the one that’s saying it.”_

_“Fine, then how many do_ you _think there are?” Rameses retorted, crossing his arms. Moses had become even more of a pain since he had turned fourteen. Rameses was mostly frustrated that Moses did not see his word as law anymore._

_Moses hummed for a moment, thinking._

_“One-hundred.”_

_“Really, Moses? Only one-hundred stars in the sky?” His brother prodded. “Surely you’re joking.”_

_“Okay, all jokes aside,_ this _is how many stars I think are in the sky.” Moses took a large fistful of sand and threw it onto his brother. Rameses promptly slammed him to the ground. For being just two years older, the man was astonishingly strong._

_They wrestled on the Nile bank until it turned to tickling and the shouting turned to laughter._

Moses could not remember how he had ended up on top of his brother that night, or how they ended up kissing and clumsily figuring out how to embrace one another in a way that seemed to rattle the world. He held his knees close as the memory danced around his mind like the soft, flowing fabrics that decorated his old home.

“Moses?”

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the soft voice of his wife behind him. He quickly spun around, ready to hold his arms out and revel in Tzipporah’s comforting embrace like a child. Miriam was with her, looking ashamed.

“She came to apologize.” Tzipporah explained. Moses looked to his sister with one eyebrow raised.

“Moses,” Miriam walked forward and sat beside him on the rock. “I really am so sorry for the words I said. It was cruel of me. Of _course,_ you loved them. They raised you and were good to you. Even Rameses.” She rubbed his back.

“Can you forgive me?”

Moses gave a tired smile and the two shared the same red, puffy eyes.

“Yes, Miriam, I can. Thank you.” He drew her into a strong embrace. He did not need anyone to understand or sympathize with his feelings, he just needed them to understand that they were there.

“Moses…”

The two siblings broke their embrace and looked at Tzipporah. A puddle of water had formed under her feet. Before Moses could even react Miriam jumped into action.

“Moses, go get the midwife!” She ordered, taking Tzipporah’s hand and supporting her weight.

Moses, adrenaline pumping, sprinted back to the camp, tripping over his own feet as if he were drunk.

“Alright, Tzipporah, squat down and get ready.” Miriam said.

“Shouldn’t we wait for the midwife?” Tzipporah asked, grunting loudly as her contractions began.

“I helped to deliver many babies in Goshen, I can handle it until she gets here.”

* * *

The night was alive with sound as Tzipporah’s distant cries had awoken the entire camp. As luck would have it, she was giving birth surrounded by sheep. The curious creatures were eyeing the situation intently.

The only humans around her were her three sisters, Miriam, Aaron, Farid, Moses, and the midwife. She held Moses’ hand so hard she was sure she had broken some fingers, at one point laughing from pure delirium at the sight of Moses’ other hand being held by Farid, and the two shared the same pained expression.

“You’re almost there.” The midwife said.

“I can’t do it anymore, it’s so painful!” Tzipporah had not wept like this since she was a young child.

“Tzipporah, you have to keep pushing.” Moses instructed her, failing to hide the shakiness in his voice.

She reached her other hand out in desperation and found it in Miriam’s.

“You can do this.”

Tzipporah’s ears rang with their cheers and shouts, and with one final, _painful_ push it was over. The rest of the world went quiet so that just the sound of a newborn’s cry was heard. Miriam and Moses quickly reclined Tzipporah onto her back.

“It’s a girl.” The midwife declared, passing the newborn to her mother, but not without a few nosy sheep giving it a sniff first.

“Moses, she’s so beautiful.” Tzipporah blubbered, not knowing whether to look at him or their child.

“I know.” He sobbed. “She’s perfect.” He heard Farid clearing his throat behind him, trying not to cry.

“What are you going to name her?” Ephora asked.

“Something strong!” Ajolidoforah recommended.

“Something pretty!” Jethrodiadah insisted.

“A nice Hebrew name.” Miriam suggested, and Aaron made a noise in agreement.

“Name her after my mother.” Farid said. Moses rolled his eyes. The answered had been “no” since before conception.

“Moses, I want you to pick.” Tzipporah said, handing her daughter to her husband, now a father.

Moses looked at the baby who was now swaddled and quiet, preferring to rest after such a traumatic event.

“Iah.”

He looked up after a few moments of silence. They were all looking to him as if he had just spoken nonsense. But then he realized that he was the only one there that knew anything of Egyptian religion.

“It’s Egyptian. Iah is the moon god of the Egyptian pantheon.” There was a chorus of “oh.”

“The moon is quite beautiful tonight.” Miriam said. Moses had not noticed until now that tonight it was full.

“And so are _you_ my little moon.” Tzipporah cooed at her daughter.

“I was right, wasn’t I? You did not have a son.” The midwife chimed in with an uncharacteristic laugh. “I hope you are not too disappointed, son. Maybe you’ll have an heir yet.”

“This one is all I need.” Moses said, breathing in the scent of new life in his arms.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello all! new chapter here. short, but i'm trying to do snapshot chapters to show the passage of time. please enjoy this little bite. there's quite a bit coming soon!

Nefertari had convinced Rameses to hold a banquet to celebrate the anniversary of his fifth year as Pharaoh. He stood stiffly and gazed upon the crowd. The banquet hall was a sea of faces and white fabric. Most of the faces were foreign, something that unnerved Rameses if he thought about it too long.

He tensed any time he looked at Amun being fawned over by noblewomen or having his cheeks pinched by rich merchants. Rameses feared his son would be stolen if he looked away for more than a few seconds.

“Would you relax?” Nefertari laughed, swatting him on the shoulder. “He’s got over a dozen eyes on him. He is _fine_. Enjoy yourself for once.”

Rameses had always been impressed with her mind reading skills. He took the goblet of wine she offered him and downed half the red liquid in one gulp. He tried not to drink often as it loosened him up a bit _too_ much.

“Promise me you won’t let me make a fool of myself.” He said, looking at her gold jewelry as is shone in the warm light.

“If you look like a fool, so do I.” She replied with a smirk. “And you know how much I _loathe_ looking like a fool.”

Nefertari left his side to chat her ladies in waiting. Rameses saw a man eyeing her from the corner of the room. Her lover. What was his name again?

He appreciated his wife’s commitment to secrecy and was happy that she had found a companion. If only his own companion were here. He would tug him by his wrist out of the banquet and into a side room, kissing him and biting him and-

“Father,” Amun said, tugging at his father’s shendyt. “Could I leave the party? It’s so loud. I’m frightened.”

“Of course, my love.” Rameses replied, skillfully picking up Amun with one arm and led them behind the curtain and to the quiet palace waters.

Amun, though sweet and playful, was also a horribly nervous child. The doctors had tried to treat his anxiety but had found no luck so far. Rameses remembered his own brother’s nervous nature. Moses’ head injury that fateful night seemed to make it worse. He had never seen his younger brother vomit and faint out of fear before, and he hoped Amun never would.

* * *

“Do you feel better?” He asked his son as he sat him down by the edge of the pool. Amun nodded.

“Thank you, Father.” A sad look fell upon his face. “I’m sorry I am so difficult.”

“Not at all.” Rameses rubbed his son’s head and played with his sidelocks. “I get sick of the noise too.”

Amun deemed this a decent answer and looked at his father’s goblet.

“Your wine, may I try it?”

Rameses pondered for a moment. Five years old seemed a bit young. But the buzz he felt washed his hesitation away.

“Just a taste.” He replied, lowering his goblet down to his son’s mouth. “I doubt you will like it.”

He chuckled as Amun’s face twisted into a sour expression after taking an incredibly small sip and forced it down his throat.

“Yuck!” He cried, wiping is mouth. “That is _awful_. How do you drink that?”

“It’s an acquired taste.” Rameses replied, gulping down what was left.

“Well, I hope I never acquire it.” His son pouted.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m sure you could acquire interests in other things.”

Amun raised his eyebrows and turned to his father.

“That’s right! Father, I wanted to ask you something.”

“What is it, my dear?” Rameses set the goblet down and leaned back, letting his back touch the cold limestone floor. His son did the same but laid on his stomach.

“I know who Moses is, but you’ve never told me what he was like. Can you tell me now?” The boy asked as he kicked his feet back and forth.

“That’s right. I haven’t, have I?” Rameses mused as he looked to the up. “I did when you were small, but you didn’t understand language at that point. What would you like to know?”

“What did he look like?” Amun asked.

“Well, he was shorter than me. A longer face with a thin nose. He had brown hair but wore a wig.” Rameses answered. “I guess you haven’t seen the murals.” Amun shook his head.

“I haven’t.” His son replied. “May I ask another?”

“Of course.”

“What was he like? Was he kind and fun? Or was he disobedient?”

“He was incredibly kind and generous, and plenty of fun.” Rameses sighed. “He was _always_ there to get me out of trouble.”

“Do you miss him?”

“Every day of my life.”

“That makes me sad.” Amun said. “Does it hurt to talk about him?”

“Do not be sad for me, my son.” Rameses replied as he picked his son up and sat him on his chest.

“On the contrary, it makes me happy that I have the chance to recall my memories of him.” The Pharaoh stroked his son’s cheek. “I just wish you could have met him. You two would be thick as thieves.”

“What happened to him?”

Rameses was not ready to recall this out loud. Amun would fail to understand, he knew.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” The father replied. He lifted Amun off him and back into his arms as he stood up. “Come, it’s time for bed.”

“But I’m not tired.” Amun pouted. A yawn betrayed him.

“Are you sure about that?” Rameses teased.

“Hmmph.”

* * *

As soon as Rameses laid his son down to bed, the boy fell asleep.

He returned to the waters and sat back down again, picking up the empty goblet he had left and staring at his warped reflection.

When had he begun to look so worn? He was beginning to get lines under his eyes and around his mouth. Probably from frowning too much.

If Moses were still alive, would he look the same? Would he still be lean and fit, or scrawny and starving? Rameses laughed at the idea of Moses somehow stumbling on a bounty of food and becoming fat like Hotep.

“Moses, if you’re out there.” He said aloud. “Come back to me someday. Even if it were just to put a blade through my chest, I would be content.”

His mind wandered back to his earlier fantasy. The two of them writhing around one another, drenched in sweat. Moses’ neck would be adorned with small bruises. Play fighting, they would tell their parents.

After plenty of pining (and sometimes, if Moses were in an impish enough mood, begging) on Rameses’ part, Moses would submit as he usually did and let his brother ride him like a chariot. Moses would wince as Rameses would shakily cross the finish line with an animalistic cry of victory and a prize for his pet. Each race seemed sweeter and more dangerous than the last. After tasting Moses’ fruit, the nights without it felt like starvation.

In this moment Rameses noticed the ache in his loins and was reminded of what is was like to hurt with a pain that no medicine could fix. It humiliated him when he had to pleasure himself. A weak thing to do, he thought. But he was a weak Pharaoh.

As he began to massage his nerve he wondered if Moses was doing the same thing.

He finished with a grunt, his mouth thick with mucus. He watched as his semen floated atop the water and dissipated into nothing. He prayed the Nile could somehow carry it to his brother.


	11. Chapter 11

Iah winced as her mother brushed her hair, dark and thick like her own.

“Iah,” Tzipporah huffed, rolling her eyes. “I am being as gentle as I can possibly be. You just enjoy being difficult.”

“I do not!” Her daughter insisted with a voice as sweet as honey. “Baba says I’m just tender headed.”

“And every day I loathe that he gave you that curse.” Tzipporah flatly said, deciding to ignore her daughter’s dramatics.

“Good morning, you two.” Miriam said, popping her head in.

“Aunt Miriam!” Iah squeaked with delight. “Help me, Mommy is hurting me!”

Miriam laughed as Tzipporah threw her hands up. The Hebrew woman came to the High Priestess’ side and gave her a knowing look.

“Iah,” she turned to her niece. “Don’t you want to look pretty for your birthday celebration tonight?”

Iah sighed in frustration.

“Yes.”

“Your mother is just trying to help.” Miriam said, a warm smile on her face. “The sooner you let her do this, the sooner it will be over.”

Iah thought for a moment.

“Iah,” she sang. “Everyone always talks about how sweet you are. You don’t want them to start thinking differently, do you?”

The girl smiled at her aunt and looked over her shoulder at her mother.

“I’m sorry, Mommy. I’ll be good.”

Tzipporah smiled and began to brush the girl’s hair again.

“I guess I can’t really blame you. It’s my fault you have so much hair.” She replied.

“Yeah, but that’s a good thing. Baba’s hair would look _awful_ on me.” Iah thought out loud. The other two women laughed.

“Speaking of, Miriam, have you seen Moses?”

“He and Aaron are probably fooling around in the herd, like usual.” Miriam gestured her head outside of the tent. Tzipporah shook her head with a smile.

“I’ve never seen Moses act like such a child.” She said.

“I feel the same way about Aaron.” Miriam replied. “Never has he been _this_ carefree. Sometimes I wonder if he’s not an imposter.”

* * *

Moses, Farid, and Aaron stood in the pasture, surrounded by the sheep. Curious creatures, much like children.

“I'm told you merely need to hear a dream, and you can explain it.” Moses said in a deep voice, pointing a twig at his brother.

“Not me, Your Excellency. The explanation comes from God.” Aaron replied, waving his hands as if it put power into his words.

Moses came up close to his brother and jabbed the twig into his chest.

“None of my wise men or magicians, none of my gods could help me. What makes you think your God is any different?”

Aaron held back a grin. His younger brother looked ridiculous in the hastily and poorly made nemes that cloaked his hair.

“Tell me your dream, Pharaoh.” Aaron replied. He felt a childlike joy he had only felt a handful of times as a boy.

“Every night it's the same. I am standing by the Nile. Seven healthy cows graze peacefully on the banks…”

Farid looked on the scene as it played out. Somehow he had gotten dragged into this by the two brothers. Just that morning Aaron had passively mentioned the story of Joseph and his ability to interpret dreams. Moses was so enamored by the idea that he insisted that Aaron tell him the story, which somehow led to them putting on a play for the sheep. He reluctantly played some man named Potiphar.

“Potiphar, you trust this man?”

Farid was snapped out of his musings by Moses. Both brothers looked at him expectantly, waiting for his answer. He sighed.

“With my life, Excellency.”

Somehow “Joseph” was crowned “Tzafenat Paneah” by “Pharaoh Sesostris III.” Farid forced his mind to go elsewhere as he watched the play finish before him.

“Aaron, that was amazing!” Moses exclaimed, tossing his nemes to the ground and scratching his head, itchy from the rough fabric.

“Joseph’s story is my absolute favorite.” Aaron replied, stretching his arms. “Noah is a close second though.”

“Who was Noah?” Moses inquired.

“Well, he put two of every animal on a giant arc when God flooded the world.”

Before Moses could say anything, Farid jumped in.

“Don’t you think we should be getting back to the task at hand?” He asked rhetorically. The brothers shared a look.

“What were we doing again?” Aaron looked thoughtful.

“Oh, right.” Moses groaned, slapping his forehead. “We’re supposed to pick a sheep for the party tonight.”

“Yes, and here you two are fooling around.” Farid scolded them like children. Ever since Iah had been born, Moses went from being mostly mature to a shameless teenager, and he had gotten Aaron wrapped up in the fun.

Regardless, Moses insisted the three were brothers, together. Farid had no family of his own, so it felt good to be so close to others, even if they made him want to tear his hair out.

“It’s always so hard, though.” Aaron looked sad. He gestured to all the sheep. “They’re like my children.”

“Yes, delicious children.” Moses jabbed his brother, who swatted him back.

“Let’s just pick one of the older ones.” Farid replied.

The entire flock seemed to understand human language, as they all looked wide eyed with anticipation. The three men were silent for a moment as they made their way through the endless field of wool, trying to find a suitable sacrifice.

“Hey!” Moses hollered. “What about this one?”

Aaron and Farid shoved their way through the sheep and came right up to Moses, looking at the ram in front of him.

They all recognized him as the oldest of all of them, but still hearty and strong with plenty of meat on his bones.

“Seems like a good choice.” Farid said. Aaron nodded, leaning down until he was eye to eye with the ram.

“How would you like to be in our bellies tonight?”

The question seemed to be enough to kill the sheep without bloodshed or violence. It gave out a strange noise as its eyes rolled into the back of its head, toppling over and onto the ground with a thud, sticking out its tongue.

The men stood there, silent.

“Well,” Moses finally said. “That was easy.”

* * *

Iah watched as her mother and all her aunts scurried around the large tent, tossing fabrics and jewelry to one another.

Tzipporah had insisted that she have a brand-new outfit for tonight made of colorful fabrics and beads. She had left it up to her three sisters, who promptly forgot about it and only remembered just minutes ago.

“Sorry, sister.” Ephora said with a pleading smile. Her older sister huffed and threw linen at her.

“I should’ve known better than to trust you three. It’s like you don’t even have a full brain between you.”

“You have nothing to worry about.” Jethrodiadah assured her. “We’ll get it done in time.”

“Ajolidoforah, hand me a needle.” Miriam said, holding out her hand. The youngest sister looked around the room, frantic. She spotted one in her oldest sister’s mouth and snatched it away.

“What are you making, Aunt Miriam?” Iah asked. Her mother’s sisters oversaw her dress, her mother her hair, but she had no idea what her father’s sister was there for.

“A necklace. Your father asked me to.” She could not see what her aunt was doing, but she was quickly done. “There.” She turned around and showed her niece the creation.

It was a golden ring with a turquoise gem in the middle hanging on a string.

“That’s it?” Iah asked. Her mother scolded her, and she raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yes, that’s it.” Miriam laughed. “I know it doesn’t look special, but it is the most important thing your father owns.”

“What’s so special about it?” Iah’s voice was muffled by a tunic forced over her head.

“That’s for him to tell you.” Miriam said with a sly look. Iah huffed, knowing this conversation would go no further.

Soon the women had created a simple blue and white linen dress for the girl. White was only worn on rare occasions, as it was an expensive fabric to buy. Her mother had twisted and tied her hair into some sort of _something_. She was shown her reflection in a bucket of water and smiled.

“I look pretty.” She said. Her mother gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“You always do.”

“Mommy, I have one request.” Iah turned to her mother.

“What is it?”

“Once, Baba told me about how Egyptians wear this black stuff around their eyes. Can I have some?”

Tzipporah and Miriam shared a look. They had always been concerned with her fascination with Egypt, but Moses forbade them from ever telling her why.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” Tzipporah said. “I just have to find a good replacement.”

“What about some blackened soot from the fire?” Ephora suggested. “You could mix it with fat and make something similar.”

“Maybe you _do_ have a brain.” Tzipporah laughed. “Now, all of you should go get ready yourselves.”

Iah was suddenly left alone in the tent, something she did not mind. It gave her time to think, and she liked to think. Her father always gushed about how smart she was, how she had been nearly independent from day one.

“My, don’t you look pretty.” Her father stepped into the tent and sat beside her. She smiled.

“Baba, what is this?” She asked, thrusting the ring on her necklace into his face. He twirled it in his hand, his mind seeming to wander.

“If I tell you, you won’t believe me.” He said, meeting her eyes. They were soul-piercing and bright, like her mother’s. The only things she had inherited for him were the bronze of her skin, her nose and cheekbones, and her penchant for mischief.

“I’ll believe you as long as you don’t _lie_.” She replied with a roll of her eyes. Moses laughed.

“Fine, I’ll tell you.” He dragged her into his lap.

“Believe it or not, that ring is a gift from the Egyptian Pharaoh himself.”

His daughter whipped her head around, and for a moment he was afraid she had broken it.

“Surely you are joking!” She exclaimed. He shook his head.

“This is true.” He said

“How did you come to get a gift from Pharaoh?” She asked.

He hesitated for a moment. Should he tell her the truth? What would it change? No. She deserved to know. Because perhaps someday, maybe…

He stopped himself.

“After my birth mother died, I was adopted by the father of the current Pharaoh and his wife. They took me in as their own, and I was with Pharaoh Rameses. We were like brothers.”

His could not help the grin that spread across his face as his daughter stood still, jaw nearly on the floor.

“You’re _sure_ you’re not joking?” Iah could not believe her ears.

“It’s true.” Aaron interjected as he popped his head into the tent. Her uncle’s reinforcement of the truth of the story seemed to prove to her that it was fact, rather than fiction.

She immediately began asking questions until she was breathless. Moses lost count of them all.

“How about we make a deal?” Moses suggested. Iah did not answer but looked at him intently.

“Every night, you can ask me _one_ question. I will answer. But only _one_.”

“Okay!” His daughter said. “I will try to think up a question for tonight.”

“No, you already asked your question.” Moses replied.

“Baba,” Iah whined. “It’s not _fair_.”

Moses shushed her.

“Iah, your mother is looking for you.” Aaron interrupted them, crouching to meet her height. “Why don’t you go see what it’s about.”

“My makeup!” Iah squeaked, hopping out of her father’s lap, and scurrying out of the tent.

“Makeup? She is growing up too fast.” Moses shook his head. He heard Aaron’s bones pop as he sat down beside him.

“She is. But she is so smart, and beautiful, too.” Aaron mused, looking past the tent flap and into nothing. “Wait until she’s old enough to get married.”

“Marriage?” Moses sputtered. “The day she weds a man is the day I keel over and die.” Aaron laughed.

“Moses…” Aaron hesitated. “How much did you tell her? About Egypt? About…”

“About Seti? About how her grandfather killed thousands of children simply because they were Hebrew?”

Aaron winced at the thought.

“Yes.”

“Aaron… I will tell her when she is old enough to understand. She just turned five today. That is much too young to hear of genocide.” Moses replied. He looked up at his brother. “I’m sorry. I just want her to be my innocent little baby for just a bit longer.”

Aaron gave him a kind look. He was not ready for his niece to know the truth either. Aaron had long tried to forget Egypt. Miriam was strong enough to look at the past, but he was not.

“No need to apologize, Moses.” Aaron patted his shoulder. “I trust that God will give you the right words at the right time.”

Moses smiled as Aaron left to help Farid roast the lamb. His smile fell as his brother’s parting words hung in his head.

 _God_.

Miriam talked of a great plan for Moses, but it had been six years. God had not come to him at his highest point, nor his lowest. He had abandoned his past life and became a simple peasant. He was hardworking, generous, and loving. Is this not what God wanted for him?

Though the importance of deities had been told to him at a young age, Moses felt ties to no gods, neither Egyptian nor Hebrew. He remembered his royal education, Hotep and Hoy sitting him and his brother down and prattling on for hours about this god and that, what they represented, and why they were important. Once when he was ten, Rameses had bragged that _he_ was named after a god.

 _“Remember, Moses, that_ I _am born of Ra.”_

_Moses rolled his eyes._

_“And I was pulled from the water, apparently. My name represents nothing of truth, and neither does yours.”_

_“What’s wrong, are your feelings hurt?” Rameses smirked._

_“Not at all.” Moses retorted, hiding his own smirk._

_“But if our names properly represent us, perhaps yours would be Khsy, considering how much of a baby you really are.”_

_That day Moses had been forced to climb to the top of a statue while Rameses was sniffling and crying and blubbering about how Moses had better come down and apologize if he did not want to get tattled on._

Moses closed his eyes and let himself slip back in time. He and his brother were teenagers, dashing around the royal palace, dancing with each other when no one was watching. Jumping out from behind pillars and scaring the priests, surprising their mother with flowers, and tiptoeing past their father to be scolded by him later.

He opened his eyes and felt guilt pull at his stomach. That was his perfect fantasy, he thought, but he could not figure out how to fit his wife and daughter into it. Maybe the perfect fantasy was different from the perfect reality for a reason. One was attainable, and the other was not. He would have to someday learn that the idea of bounding up to the palace with his wife and daughter in tow would be about as realistic as it was smart.

His head pounded at the idea of having to reunite with his brother only to have to immediately wedge himself between the famously jealous Rameses and the equally so Tzipporah. Moses knew that Rameses might cry betrayal if he discovered his younger brother had made love to someone else. It’s not like he could hide it, either. Iah was proof.

But then again, Miriam had told him that Rameses had a son as well, so could the pharaoh really act like a wounded animal when he was the one that bit first? But Moses reminded himself that he was not a saint, either. His hands had never wondered, but his eyes had. Nefertari would often scold him for being so inconsiderate of his brother’s feelings. Moses felt himself grow hot with anger. Why did he used to be so selfish?

“Baba, what do you think?”

Moses left his mind and returned to reality. He saw his daughter, her wild hair now tamed, dressed immaculately, and with her piercing eyes rimmed by the trademark Egyptian liner.

“You look like a queen!” Moses exclaimed as he pulled her in for a hug.

“Baba! You’re going to ruin my hair!” She wriggled out of his grasp.

“Sorry.” Her father said, his pride a bit hurt. He knew that he would not be her god for much longer.

Tzipporah poked her head in.

“Come on, Moses.” She dragged him out of the tent by his hand. “The party is starting.”

* * *

The dark desert was set alight with the large bonfire of the camp. It always burned large and bright, but tonight it seemed brighter. But then again, since Iah had come into their lives, the Midian camp seemed brighter all the time.

“Look how sweet, Moses.” Tzipporah said as she leaned into his chest.

Moses looked as Aaron held Iah and swung her in his arms, drunk and happy. She was up hours past her bedtime, and it was starting to show in the way she laughed as if only halfway understanding what was so funny.

“It is sweet.” Moses said, kissing her head. She somehow always smelled like myrrh.

Tzipporah looked across the entire camp that was alive with the sounds of music, dancing, and laughter as the smells of wine and smoke mixed in the air.

“What would Rameses do?”

“Hm?”

“For his niece’s birthday.” Tzipporah motioned to their daughter. “If you were still a prince of Egypt, and somehow we were still able to marry and have children. What would he do?”

Moses had never thought of such a scenario before, but he was delighted to have the chance.

“Well, you saw the banquet hall. I’m sure it would be held there.” Moses began. “He really likes being the biggest and the best, so I’m sure it would be embarrassingly extravagant.”

“He’d probably have a lot of dancers and musicians. Lots of wine, and I’m sure she’d get showered with presents she’d have no use for until she was older.”

“Like what?” His wife asked as she sipped on her second cup of wine.

“He’d _probably_ gift her a chariot with horses. Erect a statue of her, perhaps?” Moses mused.

“A _statue_?” Tzipporah laughed at him.

“It’s true, I really think he would.” Moses laughed back. “He’s very eager to erect anything he can. In fact, the day I left…”

He felt Tzipporah tense under his arm when he trailed off. The last story he had was always the most painful to tell.

“I’m sorry.” Tzipporah said as they both stared at the fire. They could not tell whether their eyes were watering because of smoke or something else.

“Tzipporah, sometimes I can’t help but think about what our life would be like there. If I were still prince. Royal Chief Architect. We would be so happy.” Moses sighed.

Tzipporah slid from under his arm and finished her wine.

“Are we not happy here?” She challenged him.

“We _are_.” Moses pulled her close again. “You know that is not what I meant.”

“But I just wish I could share my family with my brother. Every night since Iah was born I have laid awake at night, thinking about how desperately I want to meet my nephew.”

Tzipporah did not reply.

“But I know I cannot go back. Rameses could free all of the slaves tomorrow and I still couldn’t return.” Moses looked back to his daughter again.

“But you and Iah have let me see that I can have a life that doesn’t revolve around Egypt, or my brother, but I just wish that we were _there_ sometimes.”

Tzipporah apologized again, this time looking up at him.

“For what?” Moses asked.

“For ever thinking that I had any right to expect you to forget your home.” She looked close to tears. Before Moses could console her, their sleepy daughter stumbled up to them.

“Baba… Mommy… I’m so sleepy.” She slurred, exhausted from the night’s events.

“Did you have fun, my love?” Tzipporah asked, brushing her daughter’s hair from her face.

“Yes… best day of my life.” Iah replied.

“It was for me, too.” Moses said as he lifted his daughter into his arms. He looked back at his wife and took her hand, leading them all to the tent, the loud party becoming a muffled roar.

Moses laid his wife down and then his daughter, who was already fast asleep. He laid on the other side of her and watched Tzipporah as her breathing became deep and heavy. Some nights, he looked upon her and felt himself wishing Rameses were there instead. He knew if he ever said it aloud Tzipporah would die right there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed!  
> also, Khsy is "coward" in the ancient Egyptian language. I thought it would be a fun real world thing to throw in there.


	12. Chapter 12

Rameses hissed as the pain roared up and down his spine when he stood from the bed.

The battle of Kadesh had been a total defeat. Rameses was humiliated. Standing across from Muwatalli II, king of the Hittites, whose face was proudly painted with some sort of silent jeer. His bicep had screamed as he brought his arm to the peace treaty, signing his name. The ink felt like tears from his hand that he could not bare to let sprout from his eyes.

Even though he desperately wanted to, he could not let his stubbornness and pride risk the safety of the empire. When he returned home, he ordered his men to be silent of the truth. Slaves would carve upon the walls of the city a story of great triumph. There in stone stood Rameses, smiting his enemies as they cowered in fear.

The pharaoh had received a back injury after his chariot hit the ground with a force, being trampled by his own horses. His only childhood friends that had been right there beside him and Moses as they raced through the city and peered at them as they laid upon a bed of hay, ears turning forward at the unfamiliar sounds emanating from the brothers as one mounted the other. Rameses and his brother would often sneak into the stables if they could not find privacy in the palace.

Nefertari stirred, awakened by the noise that her husband had let out.

“Are you alright?” She asked, although she knew the answer already.

“No.” Her king answered. She hesitated.

“Still as bad as it has been?” She knew the answer to this question, too, but she felt the need to ask. Nefertari had come to learn that what Rameses needed was not a wife, but someone to guide him and provide a counsel to his insecurity and doubt of his next step as pharaoh.

“Worse.” Rameses managed to let out. He moved stiffly to the foot of their bed, using the foot of it to steady himself.

“Bring me the opium.”

Nefertari sighed inwardly but did as he asked. She knew it was the only thing that alleviated the pain, but he had begun to offset the catatonia it gave him with coca leaves. The combination left him both apathetic and irritable. He avoided his son, afraid of lashing out. Even as he became so selfish, he still tried to protect his son.

Nefertari’s role had become much more central since the battle, which drew out jealousy in her longtime consort that she had tucked far away into the palace. Sometimes she had to steady herself against the feeling of sinking into the palace and turning from a queen into nothing at all.

He parted his full lips and she let some of the opium oil slide down his throat.

“You must eat today.” She said as she wiped his mouth and wiped it onto her bedclothes. He had not in a few.

“No,” Rameses shook his head, “I must wait until the medicine starts to work. Eating will delay and weaken the effect.”

Nefertari huffed and began to change. She hated what the king had become and wondered if Moses were there that he would know what to do. Would he throw his hands up in frustration and force himself into the role of a shadow king? Would he hold Rameses and try to cure him through affection and devotion? But he was dead in the sand somewhere, so it did not matter either way.

“I will have a busy day today.” He told her. “Many meetings with the priests and viziers. Please keep Amun entertained.”

“Rameses, please. He _needs_ his father and misses you greatly.” She replied sadly. The words hit a blank stare.

“Maybe so.” He mused. “I will try. But I do not want to scare him.”

“He thinks you hung the moon in the sky yourself.” She soothed him. “I doubt you would frighten him.”

Rameses gave a weak smile.

“Very well, I shall make time today.” He began to disrobe. “Can you help me get dressed?”

His wife nodded, trying not to let her eyes linger on the twisted scar tissue on his dark skin.

* * *

“Sire, are you alright?” A general, whose name did not matter, asked with much more curiosity than he was allowed.

Rameses tried to focus his vision as he slouched on the throne, his posture that of a decrepit old man. The coca leaves had not worked today. Too much opium.

“I am fine.” He said slowly, carefully enunciating each word clearly. “Now tell me again, what is it you need?”

The man, from what the pharaoh could tell, shifted uncomfortably, and cleared his throat.

“We need to turn our attention to building the army into a formidable force.” The general said. “I regret to say it, but you and I were both at Kadesh. The combat skills of the Hittites are remarkable. We _must_ find a parry.”

“What do you suggest?” Rameses inquired, motioning to a servant to fetch him a cup of Karkade. He stopped himself from rubbing his eyes. The medicine always made him so itchy.

“We lost many capable men, sire.” The general answered, folding his hands behind his back. “There are few young men who want to replace them. There is no incentive.”

“So, pay them.” Rameses grabbed the Karkade that the servant had passed to his wife with two unsteady hands and took a large drink.

“Sir, we cannot afford to do so.” A vizier interjected. “The loss of the many farms on the borders to the Hittites has affected our profit from trade.”

Rameses rolled his unfocused eyes. It was unbeknownst to him that the men gazing upon him were irritated at the task of dealing with a drunk – and therefor unfit – ruler.

“ _You_ are the ones tasked with finding solutions, and _I_ am tasked with enacting them.” Rameses felt he could go to sleep any moment. Nefertari pinched his arm, waking him.

“Well, I do have one suggestion.” The general said. He looked away.

“Well?” Rameses asked after a long while.

“Child soldiers.”

“Surely you cannot be serious.” His wife cried. The general apologized for making such a suggestion, but Rameses held up a hand to silence his her.

“What are the benefits of this?” Rameses was curious. Nefertari was surprised that her husband did not cast the idea away with disdain and order the general to leave at once.

“Well, we would not have to pay them.” The general explained. “Families, especially those of a lower class, would consider it a high honor and it would reduce their expenses. We could house them at little to no cost.”

Rameses turned to his vizier. A scrawny old man.

“What say you?” He asked. The vizier pursed his lips, thinking.

“It sounds like an effective idea, or at least the best one that we have right now.” He mused. “I suggest we enlist those eight years and older.”

“Then let it be so.” Rameses said.

The two men bowed and left the room as he shooed them away. Rameses closed his eyes. He could most definitely fall asleep then and there, but his wife shook him awake. He opened her eyes and gazed upon her, now in front of him. Her hands were on her hips, but he could not see her face.

“Surely you cannot be serious, Rameses?” She barked.

The pharaoh was confused. What did it matter to her? It’s not like she would be forced to enlist.

“What are you on about?” He asked.

“Child soldiers?” She raised her voice. “ _We_ have one of our own. Of eight years, also. Have you forgotten?”

“No.” Rameses rose and pushed her out of the way. He nearly slipped down the stairs and felt relief as he reached the bottom. “But Amun will not enlist. I will not let him.”

“That’s not the point.” She cried, grabbing his arm. “What kind of example are you setting for your people, treating their children as disposable?”

“Did you not here what the general said?” He jerked his arm away and began to vacate the throne room. “The people will consider it a great honor.”

“The fathers, maybe so.” Nefertari marched after him. “But what of the mothers? Sick with worry of their children’s safety? If it were to be Amun, I would die of grief then and there.”

“Are you deaf? I said it shall _not_ be Amun.”

“Have a heart, Rameses!” His queen shook her fist at him.

“Gods do not have hearts.” He answered coldly, and his words did fall on her like a chilling desert breeze.

“Then I shall cast away my devotion to them.”

Rameses froze in place.

“A blasphemous woman you are.” He observed. His anger only made him more tired.

“And a cruel man you are!” She replied. He swiveled with a newfound balance to face her.

“I will _not_ be the weak link!” He had assured her of that during their engagement, but she did not know that being a strong and sturdy link meant being so ruthless.

“You may not be a weak link, but you are a man with a rotten heart.” She sneered at him. “Had I known this early on, I would have rejected the title of queen.”

“You are a liar. You _reveled_ in the idea of being surrounded by wealth. That is all you’ve ever cared about.” He began to feel weak again.

“That was before Amun.” Her voice became weak. “I love him.”

“As do I, and you know this.” Rameses pinched the bridge of his nose. “But I cannot let my love for him overshadow my duty to the empire.”

Nefertari began to sob.

“Ever since you lost the war you have become so cold.” She sniffled. “I curse the medicine that you depend on so dearly.”

“You do not know the pain I face every day!” He cried, pointing at her. “How am I to rule if all I can think about is how much being alive hurts?”

“How can you rule if all you can think about is an oil that stupefies you and leaves that are the only thing that keep you awake?” She challenged him. “Think of your son!”

He stood tall and proud, looking down on her.

“I do.”

With that Rameses turned and began to march out of the room. He collapsed to the floor with a thud. How reminiscent of his brother, he thought. Before the world went dark he heard the cries of his wife and terrified screams of his son, who had quietly slipped into the room and behind a pillar, eavesdropping on the couple’s duel.

Curiously enough, he heard the cries of his brother’s ghost as well. It lulled him to sleep.

Too much opium, but never enough to forget his love for his beautiful, dead, untouchable Moses.

* * *

Rameses opened his eyes, taking in the pitch blackness around him. He rose and looked around, seeing nothing. He then looked down at his feet. They seemed closer to his body, his legs shorter.

In fact, his arms looked the same way. He saw his small belly protrude with fat and ran his hands across his face, which was also fatty. A small nose, no carved cheekbones or sharp jaw.

As he walked he felt himself teeter unsteadily. What kind of dream was this? The pain in his back was gone, at least.

He walked for what felt like both a long time and just a few seconds. He felt himself become scared, frightened, even. Is this how Amun felt? How exhausted he must be all the time.

Nevertheless, Rameses was still stubborn, so he continued to stumble through the darkness and looked down when he felt something cold and wet hit his knees. Water. His reflection showed an image of a young boy, chubby and soft. So, he was a child again. What an odd dream.

He looked ahead of his and where there was once nothing was the view of the steps of the palace waters. There sat his mother, admiring a lotus flower. He suddenly felt tears prick his eyes and he held his arms out, wailing for his mother. Her attention turned to him, rushing over, and picking him up.

“Rameses, what are you doing so far out in the water? You could have drowned.” She scolded him. It was the first time he had heard her voice in years, and he began to cry more.

Tuya soothed her son’s cries and kissed his head, holding him on her hip.

“What has got you so upset, my love?” She asked.

“I’m scared.” Rameses hiccupped. “Just today I was a grownup. I was mean and my back hurt and I got angry and then I fell asleep, and now I’m here.”

He began to cry again.

“I was so sad and my back hurt and the medicine I took made everything worse.” He wailed. “Mommy, I don’t know what to do, help me.”

“Oh, Rameses.” She sighed, sitting down on the stairs, and placing her son beside her. “It’s alright. I know being Pharaoh is hard. Your father is not perfect at it, and neither will you be.”

“How do I stop being so mean?” Rameses asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Well, you have to understand that sometimes things hurt, and the pain never goes away.” She handed him a lotus, and he fidgeted with the petals. “But you have to face it. You _cannot_ run away, that will only make it worse.”

“Okay.” Her son replied. “How do I not run away?”

“Stop taking that awful medicine. You are too smart for that.” She scolded him. He pouted.

“But what am I supposed to do instead?” He asked.

“Learn to move on.” She said. “Let go of your crutches and turn to those who love you for comfort. What of Nefertari and Amun?”

“I guess so.” Rameses said, unconvinced. “But I want Moses.”

“You love him, don’t you?”

Rameses nodded. His eyes filled with tears again.

“It’s okay.” Tuya sighed. “I miss him, too.”

“Does Father keep you company?” Rameses asked. He felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as his mother’s face grew somber.

“He is not here with me.” She replied.

“Why?” Her son asked.

“There is a spirit here, a god, who is nameless and shapeless. The only one there is. He told me your father did some terrible things.” She replied. “So, he is banished to another place.”

“Is it bad?” Rameses asked.

“Apparently it is just as dark as this, but it is also lonely.” His mother said. “There are other spirits here that I can spend time with. My siblings and my parents. But your father is alone. It is his punishment.”

“What did he do?” Rameses had many questions.

“He killed Hebrew children.”

Rameses gasped.

“Why would he do that!” He cried. “What a devil.”

His mother glared at him.

“Your father may be flawed but I will not allow you to speak ill of him.” Tuya snapped, uncharacteristic of her. “He is the love of my life, and though he did wrong, he was a good husband and father.”

“So, he was nice to you?” Rameses replied, surprised such a grumpy old man was the shining star for a woman so young and beautiful and kind as his mother.

“Very.” His mother smiled. “He did so much for me that he did not have to.”

Rameses decided not to ask any more.

“I miss him.” His mother sighed.

“I know.”

Tuya looked at her son, putting her hand on the back of his neck.

“Rameses, look at your reflection.”

He did and was surprised to see he had gone back to his adult form.

“Look how royal you are.” She said. “You have lost all your family. Do not make your people lose theirs, and make sure your son does not lose his.”

“I promise I will not.” He replied.

“I love you, and I’m so proud.” These were her final words, and everything faded away.

Rameses grew tired and closed his eyes to rest.

* * *

The pharaoh opened them once more, and saw his body laying on the bed.

“You’re awake. Thank Ra.”

He turned to look at his wife. She looked ready to collapse.

“How long was I asleep?” He asked, hoarse.

“About a day.” She replied.

They were quiet for a moment.

“Where is Amun?”

His wife pointed to the floor, and there lay his son, curled and asleep.

“Rameses, we were so worried.” Nefertari sighed. “We were sure you were dead.”

Rameses ignored this.

“I had a talk with my mother.”

Nefertari looked at him, unsure of what to say next. She decided to wait for him to elaborate.

“She told me I needed to stop running, and to face my problems.” Rameses said. “I’m going to do just that. No more elixirs and medicine.”

His wife smiled.

“I want to be present, and if that means pain, then so be it. I would rather that then hurting you and Amun.”

“You really are so gentle.” His wife said, rubbing his arm.

“Have someone fetch the general and vizier. I need to tell them to abandon their plans.” He said.

Nefertari nodded and got up to leave. She turned to look at him.

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you enjoyed! quick little history lesson, folks!
> 
> opium - painkiller, as most of you probably know, and it was common in egypt  
> coca leaves - cocaine!
> 
> often times in history notable figures have used a combination of uppers and downers. hitler was on a combination of opiates and meth during most of the war. continued use of either is bad, but combining both uppers and downers is even worse.
> 
> karkade - ancient egyptian hibiscus tea! it was very popular with egyptian pharaohs.
> 
> the battle of kadesh - this one is for the most part accurate, a peace treaty was signed, but, in real life this battle was more of a tie. the treaty at kadesh is considered to be the first peace treaty ever signed!


	13. Chapter 13

“You’re late to rise!” Miriam teased her youngest brother as she watched him hurry out of his tent, quickly putting on his robe. “Sorry, I was up late with Iah. I got caught up in telling her about the chariot race that defiled her grandfather’s statue.”

“It’s alright.” Miriam laughed. “But Aaron woke early and headed out to the fields. He’ll tease you for being late if you don’t hurry over there.”

Moses almost answered her but looked up as he saw his brother walking towards them. He smiled and waved to say hello but grew concerned as he saw his brother’s usual smile was replaced with a solemn look.

“What is it?” Moses asked. “Did a jackal attack in the night and kill a sheep?”

Aaron shook his head.

“It’s not that.” Aaron sighed, staring at her siblings as Miriam came to his side, concerned.

“What on earth has you looking so troubled?” She asked.

He held his staff out to them.

“God came to me, appearing as a burning bush. But not a fire that burned.”

The siblings paused and Miriam backed away from him.

“And you’re sure it was him?” She asked. Aaron nodded.

“I asked him who he was, and he told me he was the god of my ancestors.” He replied.

Moses was the first to respond.

“That’s incredible. Congratulations!” Moses said happily. “We should celebrate.”

Aaron shook his head again.

“His message is not one to celebrate.”

“Then what was it, Aaron?” Miriam asked.

Aaron looked to the ground, then behind him, then to the staff, and finally back to his siblings.

“He has tasked me with going back to Egypt, and…” He trailed off, unable to finish.

“With what?” Moses asked with worry. Egypt meant Rameses.

“Freeing the Hebrews.”

There was a long, terrified silence.

“How in the world would you possibly do that?” Miriam gasped.

“With this.” Aaron held the staff out again. “He blessed it to be a tool for me. With this, I am supposed to smite Egypt with his wonders if Pharaoh will not free our people.”

“But Aaron, you are just one man!” Moses said.

“God has told me I _must_ do this task. He has not abandoned me, so I cannot abandon our people.” Aaron said with a newfound fire.

“He has also told me that I must bring you two with me. Specifically, you, Moses.” Aaron turned towards his brother.

“Why on earth would he need _me_?” Moses asked.

“It’s because he was a prince, isn’t it, Aaron?” Miriam asked the middle child.

“Yes,” Aaron replied, “God says Moses is to speak to Rameses, to try to make him consider letting them go. It may save Egypt from being smote.”

“I cannot.” Moses said quickly. “I will not.”

“Moses, you don’t understand.” Aaron stressed. “If you do not do as God has asked of you, he will punish you!”

“I cannot face my brother. I cannot destroy his kingdom.” Moses shook his head.

“Moses you must!” Miriam cried. “Don’t you care about your people?”

“I do, but I also care about my brother. I am too weak to help you, Aaron. I’m sorry.”

“Moses, _please_. You have to.” Aaron pleaded. “You cannot deny a task God has given you.”

“If God has given you his power, surely you do not need me.” Moses replied. Miriam grabbed his arm.

“Moses, please. I am going. I will be there for you.” Miriam assured him, but he shook his head and backed away.

“I will accept whatever consequence he gives me.” Moses breathed. “I am too weak to see Rameses again. He will not listen to me. If he finds out that I’m alive he will throw me in prison and ignore my request.”

“If he does then God has the power to change his mind, but in order to spare the lives of both Egyptians _and_ Hebrews, you must try.”

“My final answer is no.” Moses snapped. “I have a wife and child, and I will not leave them behind.”

“They can come with us!” Miriam said.

“And risk them dying? No.” Moses said. “I will not.”

“I am disappointed in you.” Miriam shook her head in disgust. Moses paid it no mind.

“Very well, Moses. But you cannot be surprised or upset when God punishes you.” Aaron said angrily.

“I will take any punishment he gives.” Moses replied, turning away and marching back to his tent. He heard Miriam and Aaron whisper to each other, but about nothing he cared to know.

He slipped back into the tent and sat beside his wife and child. Tzipporah was awake and tidying up, but Iah was still asleep.

Moses came to his daughter’s side and picked her up, smelling her hair and kissing her cheek.

“Moses, you’ll wake her!” Tzipporah whispered. But that is just what Moses was trying to do.

He smiled at his daughter as her thick lashes parted, looking at him sleepily. She reached her arms out, wrapping them around his neck and he pulled her to his chest tightly.

“I love you so much, darling.” He kissed her head. “Do you know that?”

“Yes, Dad.” She answered through a yawn. “I love you too.”

“Moses, are you alright?” Tzipporah came to her side. Moses’ intense affection to his daughter was not abnormal, but his insecurity in this moment worried her.

“Did something happen?”

He sighed.

“Iah, go to Farid. I must speak with your mother privately.” Moses cupped his daughter’s face, still plump with the baby fat he hoped would never go away and made her look at him.

“But I want to hear.” Iah fussed.

“No, I’ll tell you when you’re older.” He shushed. He nodded at Tzipporah who took their daughter into her arms and out of the tent, walking briskly to Farid who was stretching in the sunlight.

She thrust Iah into his arms and he raised an eyebrow at her.

“I’ll tell you later.” She replied and turned away. Farid took this as a reasonable enough explanation for now and took Iah to get a drink of water and some bread for breakfast.

* * *

“What?” Tzipporah said in disbelief. God? Here?

The two lovers sat across from one another holding hands.

“I know, I can’t believe it either.” Moses replied, shaking his head.

“So, you’re just going to leave us here?” Tzipporah asked.

“No, of course not!” Moses answered firmly. “My place is here with you. Aaron said that God would punish me if I did not obey Him, but I can’t leave you and Iah, and I fear taking you would put you both in harm’s way.”

Tzipporah nodded, relieved to know that her husband’s fervent dedication to his family was still there.

“Whatever the cost, as long as we are together, everything will be okay.” Tzipporah said. They embraced, and Moses held her for a long time. He was relieved at her support of his decision.

“I’m sure if I did leave that Iah would chase after me and give me a stern talking-to.” Moses said. Tzipporah laughed.

“You may be right.” Tzipporah said.

Their conversation was interrupted by Aaron poking his head into the tent. Tzipporah gave him a hard look and Moses averted his eyes.

“May we come in?” Aaron asked. The other person with him was Miriam.

Although he knew they were there to try once again to convince Moses to come, Moses knew that once Aaron and Miriam left he would probably never see them again. He at least wanted to hug them goodbye and end their relationship on the best terms that they could.

The two siblings came and sat across from the couple. Aaron laid his staff down and Tzipporah picked it up, looking it over.

“So, this is what God gave you to smite Egypt?” She asked skeptically.

“Yes,” Aaron nodded, “and I am sure Moses has told you the other details.”

“He has, and our answer is no.” Tzipporah said with resolve.

“Tzipporah, please.” Miriam said, but the High Priestess held her hand up to silence her.

“Mine and Moses’ place is here. We are a _family_. We have a child to protect.” She replied.

Miriam’s eyes began to water.

“We _must_ free our people.” She whimpered. But her words fell on deaf ears.

“Miriam, you and Aaron are my siblings, and I love you dearly.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “But I love my wife and daughter, too. If I lose them then I lose my will to live.”

Miriam looked away, glaring at the carpet beneath her.

“Is there _any_ way we can change your mind?” Aaron asked, but he knew the answer.

“Aaron, I wish you luck, but I cannot. I also cannot speak of this anymore, for it hurts my heart.” Moses replied sadly, his own eyes welling with tears. “I hope you do not resent me.”

Aaron shook his head.

“I could never, and I understand your decision.” Aaron replied with a sad smile as he rose and helped Miriam up. She was still looking away and weeping silently.

“Iah will be upset.” Tzipporah said. “She loves you both so much.”

“And we will miss her even more.” Miriam replied as she wiped her eyes. She finally looked at her brother with a wobbly smile and red cheeks. “I love you, Moses.”

“I love you too.” Her younger brother replied. “Both of you.”

* * *

The members of the camp were gathered around Miram and Aaron. Farid was securing their travel sacks on their camel, with plenty of water and food for the long journey.

They had all cried, some more than others, but none more than Iah. She wailed and wailed for hours until she went hoarse and her eyes were dry, her face puffed like an overstuffed cushion. Now she only hiccupped as she held her father’s hand.

“Well, this is it.” Aaron held back tears, but his sister did not. For being the oldest, she was quite a baby.

“May God guide you on your journey.” Ephora said. Aaron nodded at her in thanks.

He looked to his brother, taking in one final look at the man who fell so far from grace, and rose from the ashes. Aaron was proud of him.

Moses pulled him into a tight hug and took an arm and roughly pulled Miriam in the embrace. The three stood like that for a moment, saying silent goodbyes.

Aaron pulled away reluctantly. Miriam held on for a few moments longer. When she pulled away, she wiped Moses’ tears.

“Be good.” She laughed. Moses joined her.

As the two siblings mounted their camel, Iah came forward and tugged at Aaron’s pant leg. He looked down at her, still trembling at the fact that she did not understand what forever meant, but knew it was so unbelievably sad.

“Will you give this to my other uncle?” She blubbered, taking off the scarab ring necklace and holding it up to Aaron.

He paused for a moment. Should he? He feared that Pharaoh, if he learned Moses was alive, could go on a manhunt and slaughter everyone in the camp and drag Moses back in chains. Maybe even put him to death. Aaron looked to his brother in uncertainty.

To his surprise, Moses looked serene, happy at the thought. He nodded at his older brother, who looked back to his niece and smiled.

“Of course.” He gently took it from her and placed it around his own neck.

“Don’t lose it!” The young girl barked.

“Of course,” Aaron replied with a laugh. “Would you like me to give him a message?”

“Tell him I said hello.” She said with a smile. The group laughed.

“And tell him that I did, too.” Moses said. “But do not tell him any more than that.”

Aaron nodded. As him and Miriam disappeared into the desert winds, where their family and friends could no longer see them, is when they finally collapsed on top of the camel into heaving sobs. Aaron knew that no matter how the emancipation went, he would always feel a little bit empty inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another one!  
> i didn't mention it in this chapter outright, but this was set about eight years after Moses left Egypt, so Iah is 7. thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

Rameses bounced his son idly on his lap as the boy looked with wonder at the ribbon dancers in front of him.

Outwardly, the banquet had been announced as just a pure celebration of Egypt and its wonders, but really it was something his wife had surprised him with after six months without drug dependence. The red color of the silk personified the fire of Rameses’ soul and newfound vitality. Things had become brighter, and days became easier. Even his back pain had nearly gone away.

His bones vibrated with the sharp trumpets and stringed lutes bouncing off the limestone room. He let his eyes wander to his subjects and courtiers. The women would look away with shy glances, whispering to one another of his beauty and power.

His viziers had suggested he take on multiple wives as to expand the dynasty. What if Amun fell ill and passed, after all. But he waved the idea away. The one time he and his wife had made love in order to conceive was awkward and difficult for him. Her birth canal felt much more loose and less ribbed than the rear entrance his brother had provided him so many years ago. Sometimes the deprivation of that body, that temple, left his stomach in knots with some sort of insatiable hunger.

He did not notice the doors to the room open until the guests, who were led in without permission had made their way halfway to the throne. They were dressed as peasants in colorful dyed robes and shawls, not the linen white of nobility. He held up his hand, silencing the room and parting the sea of dancers below him.

The two intruders came close to the throne, and it finally sunk in who they were. Aaron was easily recognizable, despite his added muscle mass. The woman behind him was still petite and stocky, unchanged. Rameses felt the lines around his mouth deepen.

“Who dares enter Pharaoh’s palace without permission?” He demanded an answer. Though in truth he already knew it. His pride would not let him say their names aloud, however.

“You know of me, Pharaoh. We both know that.” Aaron answered. Rameses glanced at the tall, wooden staff in the Hebrew man’s hand. It did not seem sturdy or well made. How embarrassing, the king mused.

“What are you doing here?” Rameses spat. “You know that neither of you are welcome in my kingdom. I had hoped you were dead.” The room was alive with soft murmurs from his subjects.

“Lest you want me to embarrass you in front of your court, I suggest we speak privately.” Aaron answered. Rameses laughed and his courtiers gasped at such insolence from a lowly Hebrew.

“Very well, I shall entertain you.” Rameses said. His pride was too strong to risk further awkwardness in the room. He slid Amun off his lap and rose, motioning to the door that lead to the throne room. He saw his wife take a step forward to join him, but he subtly signed to her to stay, and she listened, drawing her son to her side, and ordering the dancers and musicians to resume.

The two guards at the door swung them open, revealing the panorama of Egypt’s accomplishments. He hoped it would intimidate the Hebrews.

The door shut behind the three and the king sat on his throne, looking to face the other two.

“Now, tell me what this is all about.”

“The god of the Hebrews came to me.” Aaron began. “He commands you to let his people go.”

“Commands?” Rameses scoffed.

“Yes.”

“Nonsense.”

“It is true, Pharaoh. God has given my brother the power to smite Egypt should you not listen.” Miriam interjected.

“And what power would that be?” Rameses said with a smug look. He watched as Aaron outstretched his arm and stood the staff upright. It did not fall, and instead slowly shrank and coiled into a snake. He swallowed silently as it neared him and twitched as it climbed his leg and wrapped itself around his neck, flicking its forked tongue across his ear.

“Behold, the power of God.” Aaron announced. His resolve was strong and unwavering.

“This is ridiculous. My priests could do the same thing.”

Aaron beckoned the snake back to him, ignoring the remark. It came to his feet and turned to wood again.

“I will never let your people go.” Rameses said.

Aaron looked to Miriam and she nodded.

“We have information that may change your mind.” She said.

“I doubt it.” The king replied.

“Pharaoh,” Aaron pulled a necklace from his pocket. Some sort of pendant. He handed it to Rameses who examined it.

His eyes grew wide as he turned it over in his hands. It was the very ring he gave Moses.

“Moses lives.” Miriam said.

“How am I to trust you?” Rameses replied through a tight throat.

“How would we find this in the desert? You have not found his body. How could we possibly come across Moses after years of being gone, his corpse underneath massive dunes of sand?”

Rameses hesitated. They were right, but he felt his whole world stop as he learned that his brother’s heart still beat.

“Where is he?”

“Midian.”

“What purpose does he serve in Midian?”

“He is a shepherd and hunter. He is also a husband and father.”

Rameses felt like screaming at the thought of Moses living with and betraying his older brother with a foreign harlot.

“How many children?” The king inquired.

“Just one.” Aaron answered. “A daughter named Iah.”

“How old?”

“Seven years of age.”

“Does she look like him?”

“She has his coloring but not much else.”

“Who is his wife?”

“The tribute given to him by you. The Midian woman. Her name is Tzipporah.”

Rameses felt lightheaded. Had he known his brother would reunite with the woman he would have choked her to death then and there.

“Iah was actually the one who wanted you to have the ring.” Miriam added. “Both she and Moses requested we send you a message.”

“What would that be?” Rameses said finally.

“They asked us to say hello.”

Hello? That was it? No sorry, no “I love you?” He did not know his brother was that selfish. He was tempted to hunt Moses down and strike him, dragging him back to Egypt and chaining him to his room, never to leave.

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Rameses asked with a fierce look.

“We had hoped it may make you consider emancipating the Hebrews.” Aaron said. “Moses may come back and be reunited with you.”

No, he would not. Moses had already proven himself selfish enough to be unwilling to return.

“Even if he did, I would cast him out of Egypt and back into the desert.” Rameses answered.

“Additionally, his return would not motivate me to free slaves.”

“They are _people_ , you know!” Miriam snapped. Aaron turned to his sister and shushed her.

“Do you _want_ him to throw us in prison?!” He whispered to her, but not quietly enough, because the pharaoh gave an arrogant laugh.

“You are not worth taking up space in my prison. I am not afraid of your god. Now go,” Rameses pointed to the door. “Leave before I have you thrown out.”

“You will regret this, Pharaoh.” Aaron said, taking his sister by her hand and dragging her to the door. He pushed them open with a newfound strength, giving the king one last look. He opened his mouth to say something more, but shook his head and left.

Rameses watched as the doors shut behind the two Hebrews and fell back onto his throne with a thud. His back had begun to ache again.

His ears rang and he shakily put the scarab ring onto his right ring finger. He swallowed vomit and gritted his teeth as tears spilled from his eyes.

“Moses, how could you do this to me?” He whispered aloud. Moses did not answer.

* * *

“There you are.” His wife said as she entered their chambers. She frowned and came to sit beside him as he lay, looking at the ceiling. “Did those Hebrews give you trouble?”

“Moses is alive.”

“ _What_?”

“He is alive and lives in Midian, with a wife and child.”

A thick fog of silence permeated the room.

“Oh, Rameses.” Nefertari laid beside him and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“I am so sorry.”

She rubbed his back as she felt her collarbones became wet.

He pulled away and wiped his tears, smearing the kohl from his eyes.

“I should have paid attention to the signs.” Rameses murmured.

“What are you talking about?”

“He never intended on devoting himself to me as I him. The constant hot-and-cold affection, the wandering eye. Putting me off for other, stupid things. Me having to drag him away to finally be alone with him. I laid down like a dog and let him walk all over me. No matter how much I reached out to touch him, he was always untouchable. Whether that cruelty was intentional or not, I do not know. There were times I loved him so much that I wanted to kill us both, then and there, so he would be mine forever.”

Nefertari contemplated her next words. She remembered scolding Moses for his selfishness, and pacifying Rameses’ obsession, insisting that Moses _did_ love him, but now, hearing this from the pharaoh, she was not so sure.

He looked away but she turned his face to hers.

“Moses has proven himself a selfish man.” She mused. These moments of weakness, of tears spilling out from his eyes, always surprised her. Nefertari stoked his shoulder. “You must move on. Time will heal you.”

“It feels as if I have lived ten-thousand lifetimes since he left. Time has done me no favors in eight years.” Rameses said. “I had our whole lives planned out. We would spend eternity together and have children of our own. Countless heirs.”

“Unless Moses has a womb,” She laughed, “I don’t see how children would happen.”

“I thought perhaps Towaret would bless us.”

“Amun was given to us as a condolence. I hope that you love him as much as you do Moses.”

“Of course, I do.” Rameses reassured her. “He inherited my looks and your wit and intelligence. But sometimes, I catch a shine in his eye that reminds me so much of his uncle.”

“I do too.”

“Moses is the light of this century. The paragon of this world. But a demon, too. Intent on eating my heart. I hope he knows that.”

“I am certain even though he is ignorant, that he feels that in his bones.” Nefertari said. “But he is miles and miles away. He will not come back. It is time to let go of this weight.”

“Maybe you are right.” Rameses answered. “But how do I do it?”

“Turn the sorrow into strength. It will become easier with time.”

“I hope so. I am tired of holding my breath.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tawaret - egyptian goddess of childbirth. hope you enjoyed!


	15. quick announcement

hi readers,  
i know i havent updated the past two weeks. i've been busy with personal things and school. do not worry, i haven't abandoned this, i just need to get my ducks in a row. please stay tuned!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ:  
>  if you did not read the previous chapter, entitled "quick announcement" i have been quite busy with school and trying to find a second job as i am in a position financially where i am just scraping by. i was able to publish chapters each week for so long because of summer vacation from school, but now that it has started back up again i have decided to switch to every other saturday. i posted this one today because you all have been asking so much. sorry if a change in scheduling is a bummer, but the amount of dedicated readers i have for this is a huge (and awesome) surprise, and so i want to provide quality chapters, and i can't do that each week while also juggling school, job searching, work, and my personal life. i thank you all for the compliments and kind words and dedication. i promise i will not abandon this, and i will keep you guys more updated if scheduling changes again. thanks!

Moses listened to the blade as it shredded the locks of hair on his head. He wiggled his nose as he felt the coarse strands landed on and inside of his nose.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Farid asked.

Moses nodded. After Iah had turned three, he lengthened the time between his haircuts. Moses could feel Farid shake his head above him.

“Moses, you can’t keep sulking like this. Tzipporah is growing tired of it and Iah is confused. You need to be present for them.” Farid sighed.

Normally, Moses would protest this, but Farid had always been so perceptive. As a sort of adopted family member, the man had come to have more of a say in family matters. Moses knew that if he were back in Egypt brooding as he was now, Rameses would scold him all the same. Although probably not for the sake of Tzipporah and Iah, but rather his own selfishness.

“I know.” Moses answered. “I feel guilty, but I am struggling with pulling myself away from this sadness.” He brushed away the clumps of hair landing on his lap.

Farid was finished with Moses’ haircut, and came in front of the man, raising his chin and shaving his beard, making sure to shape the Hebrew’s trademark goatee.

“You miss Aaron and Miriam, don’t you?” Farid asked.

“It’s not just that.” Moses said through tight lips, avoiding getting hair in his mouth. “I dread Rameses finding out that I’m alive with a family. He is so possessive and jealous. Who is to say he won’t charge into our home and drag me back to Egypt? He’d probably chain me up in the palace like a slave.” He remembered the one time that his older brother had done something similar but with silky linen.

_Moses gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut as his brother knelt below him, panting around his phallus and squeezing around it with his full lips._

_Moses felt his chest heave and tried to move away from the metal bed post. It was beginning to make his back ache. He knew what Rameses wanted. The first born had begged for it for years. Had tried nearly everything he could think of, but Moses had never been able to finish for him, although Moses had tried so desperately to make it happen for his own relief and to satiate Rameses monstrous appetite._

_“Please stop. It hurts.” Moses choked out. “I can’t do it, I’m sorry.” After a moment he felt Rameses pull away and watched as he stood up._

_“I don’t understand why I am not good enough.” Rameses said coldly as he wiped the dribble from his chin._

_“It’s not that, Rameses.” Moses answered. “It’s not you, I just can’t do it. I don’t understand it either.”_

_Rameses stared at him, attempting to mask the pain behind a frown._

_“I promise, I’m trying. Maybe someday it will happen.”_

_Still silence._

_“Do whatever you want to me.” Moses said. Rameses roughly grabbed his face._

_“Say you want it.”_

_“I want it.”_

_“Say you need it.”_

_“I need it, Rameses.”_

_“Who is your master.”_

_It was not really a question._

_“You are.”_

_Rameses gave a devilish grin and roughly kissed his younger brother, quickly untying Moses and throwing him onto the bed on his stomach. He listened with anticipation as Rameses slipped his shendyt off. The second born let out a gasp as his brother slicked him spit. Moses readied himself and drew in a breath as Rameses smoved his face into the bed, grunting as he felt the older brother’s member slide into him._

_As Rameses thrusted in and out of him Moses took his chance to silently weep. The tears were a messy mix of guilt, confusion, and pain in his insides._

“I will never understand how you could love a tyrant.” Farid sighed, stepping away and passing Moses a bowl of water. Moses looked at his reflection. It seemed like the lines in his forehead and crow’s feet had appeared overnight. The sunken purple hollows under his eyes had, too. At twenty-six he now looked forty.

“Trust me, I don’t know how I could miss both the one I was raised by and the one I grew beside.” Moses set the water down. “Sometimes things don’t make sense.”

Silence.

“Where are they?” Moses asked finally. Farid raised the tent flap and pointed to the Hebrew’s wife and daughter. They lay beside the unlit fire pit, basking in the sun, looking serene as their bronze skin shone in the sunlight. Moses made his way over to them and Tzipporah opened one eye as he sat cross-legged beside them.

“Well hello, stranger.” She said with a smile. “Haven’t seen you very much in a while.”

Moses was impressed at how patient she had become over the years, telling him one night that she loved him too much to stay angry for long. He felt the same about her, though she rarely made him upset while he annoyed her on a regular basis.

“I know, I’m sorry.” Moses smiled back and kissed her cheek. “I have let my mind wonder quite a bit.”

“You’re so boring now.” Iah replied. Her father laughed and drew her into his lap.

“How can I make it up to you?” He asked, placing a kiss on her head.

“Tell me more about Egypt.”

“Alright, what would you like to know?”

“What were the buildings like?”

“Absolutely massive.” Tzipporah chimed in. “I was only there for a day, so I didn’t see the whole city, but what I saw took my breath away.”

“Wait, so you went to Egypt?” Iah turned to her mother.

“Well, sort of.” Tzipporah said. She gave her husband a dirty look. “That’s where I met your father.”

“Really? Where?” Her daughter asked.

“A party.” She replied, pointing to Moses. “Why don’t you have your father tell you about it?”

Moses laughed nervously.

“It’s a long story.” He said, thinking of a way to change the subject. “I have an idea. Would you like me to teach you hieroglyphs?”

Iah grinned and nodded her head.

“Yes! Teach me my name!” She said.

“Alright. Let me fetch something to write with.” Moses replied, gingerly lifting her from his lap and standing up.

Iah bounced up and down impatiently, clapping as her father retuned.

“What does Egyptian look like?” She asked him as he sat back down.

“Well, Egyptian language is made up of pictures. Each sound is represented by one.” Moses explained.

His wife drew in close to join them. Tzipporah and her daughter watched as Moses drew a few hieroglyphs in the sand.

“So, your name is comprised of these four pictures.”

Iah and her mother exchanged skeptical looks, turning their eyes again to the markings in the sand.

They looked rather foolish and tedious to write. Almost nonsensical.

“What do all these letters mean?” Tzipporah asked.

“Well,” her husband began, “They all represent different sounds, but also different objects. The first character is the reed, the second is an arm with an upward palm, the third a candle wick, and the last one represents a crescent moon.”

“But if my name comes from the moon god, why not just the last character?” Iah asked. “What do the rest have to do with the moon?”

“You’re quite precocious for your age.” Moses chuckled. “Just like your uncle.”

“Which one?”

“The pharaoh. I never knew Aaron when he was young.” Moses replied.

“From what Miriam told us, he was fairly meek in Egypt, very much against confrontation.” Tzipporah chimed in. “Your aunt Miriam is another story, however. The same goes for Ephora and Jethrodiadah.”

“Is precociousness a good trait?” Iah asked. Her father nodded.

“Yes.” He said. “It will do you well in life. Now, back to the task at hand.”

“A reed represents an important part of the Field of Reeds, which is where the Egyptians go if they are decided worthy enough by Anubis.”

“And if they are decided unworthy?” Tzipporah asked.

“They are devoured by Ammit.”

“Who are Anubis and Ammit?” Iah inquired. Moses was entertained by her curiosity.

“Anubis is the god of the afterlife, and Ammit, ‘Eater of Hearts.’”

Iah shivered.

“That’s so scary!” She said, reaching for her mother.

“Don’t worry. Egyptian gods only have power in Egyptian land. Since we are in Midian, the Hebrew God is the one who decides where we go to die.” Moses informed her.

“So… since we are in Midian, _our_ God is who decides where we go?” His daughter asked.

“Yes.” Tzipporah nodded. “Shamayim, if we live righteously and holy, or Sheol, where the wicked go.”

“Do we find out while we’re alive where we’re going?”

“No,” Iah’s mother replied, “but if we live as god tells us, it makes it quite a bit easier to inherit the kingdom of God. So do your best to be a good girl forever, okay?”

“I promise!” Their daughter replied, crossing her arms. Her parents laughed.

* * *

“Should we have gone?” Tzipporah asked.

Moses was surprised at his wife, barely making out her figure in the darkness of the tent.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

Tzipporah sighed and looked at her sleeping daughter, curled up in warm, vibrant wool fabrics.

“Aaron mentioned something terrible happening if you didn’t follow God’s command.” She turned to her husband. “What kind of priestess am I if I don’t enforce and follow God’s word?”

“Enforce?” Moses asked. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe I…” Tzipporah trailed off. She walked away from her husband to the other side of the tent. “You’ll hate me for saying this.”

Moses shook his head.

“I could never hate you. Just tell me.” He said with a forced smile, trying to ignore the nausea in his stomach.

“Maybe, as High Priestess, I should have made you go with Aaron and Miriam.”

“And leave you two alone?” Moses asked. He was surprised at this. Had Tzipporah not been adamant that he stay?

“We wouldn’t be alone. We have family here. Plenty of people to protect us.” Tzipporah replied. She knelt down beside her daughter and stroked her black silken hair.

“I’m truly _that_ replaceable?” The words fell out of Moses’ mouth as a statement rather than a question.

“Moses, it’s not that,” Tzipporah began. “But I’m just afraid of what could happen to Iah. What if God takes her?”

“He would not. How could he? We’ve done _nothing_ wrong.” Moses argued.

“ _You_ have defied a direct order from God.” Tzipporah said, glaring at him. “And _I_ am harboring a heretic.”

“I am your _husband_!” Moses shouted. His wife shushed him and they both fell silent as their daughter stirred and quickly went back to sleep.

“And I am her _father_.” Moses said much more quietly. “How can you act like I’m just some stranger?”

“Moses, I love you.” Tzipporah said. “But this is something I need to think on.”

Moses watched as his wife lay down with their child and scoop Iah into her arms. She looked at him one last time.

“If you could, go stay with Farid tonight. I need to be alone.”

Moses felt his face grow hot with anger. Why did he have to be kicked out? Why couldn’t Tzipporah go stay with her sisters?

Moses had many nightmares like this. Having to fall asleep without his wife and daughter. But in the nightmares it was because they were taken or killed. Fortunately this was not the case now, but it might as well have been, because Moses was scared and angry all the same.

“Fine.” He said, turning away.

He waited before exiting the tent – his _home_ – to see if Tzipporah would change her mind, apologize, and beg him to lay with them, falling asleep and forgetting everything about God’s commands or her role as High Priestess. But she said nothing.

Moses sighed and stepped out of the tent and made his way to Farid’s.

He wondered if Tzipporah would wake him up tomorrow, sit him on a camel with some food and water and cast him out of Midian and into Egypt, all to prevent God’s wrath.

Moses felt eighteen again, wandering the desert with no home and no one to help him. Would that part of him ever go away?


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey all. back with another one! plague #1.

Rameses cringed as the oxblood colored water misted his upper body. The three of his guards scrambled onto the boat, yelling in terror with wide eyes. He held his balance as the boat rocked, glaring at the group of heathens on the shore. _How is this even possible?_ He wondered. Which god was this? Hapi? Was the gleaming limestone and gold temple he built her not enough? Whose blood was this?

The pharaoh swiveled his head to meet the gaze of his priests.

“Hotep! Huy!” He snapped, shaking off the water on his chest. “Explain this to me.”

The two looked at each other. Though they had both studied the history of every single god, never before had they seen one so angry. Huy’s breath quickened. Hotep always had an excuse to quell the pharaoh’s anger, but now he was silent. The taller priest made it his turn.

“Rest assured, Your Majesty-“

Hotep finally came in.

“Uh, yes, we were going to demonstrate the superior might of _our_ gods.” Hotep fished around in his robe for a way out of this. He found one.

“By the power of Ra!” Hotep crushed the red tablets in his hands, sprinkling it into the water bowl. He smiled, lifting it to the pharaoh.

Rameses dipped his hand in the blood. He watched as it ran thinly across his hand. It didn’t _feel_ like blood, but he reminded himself that he just saw the Nile turn red and in this moment not think about anything too much. He chuckled, turning his laughter to the small group of Hebrews along the shore.

“Abandon this futile mission, Hebrews.” Rameses called out. “I've indulged you long enough. This must now be _finished_.”

With these last words he had turned away from them, holding his breath as the boat floated down the Nile in an awkward silence.

“Father,” Amun finally said. “What _was_ that?”

“I’m not sure.” His father replied. “But know that it’s over. Soon the water will turn blue again as the Hebrews and their God are thrown back into the desert.” Rameses forced himself to look reassuring. This seemed to satisfy Amun, who turned his attention back to the toy crocodile in his hand.

Rameses stood up and tried not to stumble back up to his throne. _What on Earth did I just witness?_ He asked himself.

* * *

As the pharaoh’s boat redocked at the palace, Rameses felt nauseous. The entire way back, Rameses had stared at the water, begging, pleading for it to turn blue again. Blue and shining. But it had not.

This was Memphis’ _entire_ water supply. How were they to grow crops with blood? Or make brick with blood? On a superficial level, it was terrifying to look at.

He looked at his son who was asleep on the deck. The Pharaoh rose and picked up his son, walking towards the palace interior to try and sleep and not think of the _blood_ in the _Nile_. He looked up from his feet to see his wife ahead of him.

“Rameses, what is going on?” Nefertari panted as she ran up to him.

Rameses couldn’t even talk. It was too much work. He looked back at the river, and then back to his wife.

“Some god we know not of.” He mumbled. He thrust Amun into her arms, stepping around her and retreating into his maze of a home, to hide from the red Nile and pray it goes away. Like a child pulling the covers over their eyes.

* * *

“Why do you think he didn’t free the our people?”

Aaron looked at his sister across the room. They were staying in Goshen with a kind Hebrew family, who were delighted to have their deliverer in their presence.

“God?” He asked. Miriam frowned and shook her head.

“You know I would never doubt God like that.” She scolded him. “I mean Rameses.”

“Oh,” Aaron looked at the ceiling to ponder. “I guess a blood red river isn’t enough to compel him to.”

“Are there going to be any more?” Miriam asked.

Aaron sighed.

“Yes.” He said flatly. He listened as she shifted on the rug.

“What is it?”

“Frogs.”

A pause drawn longer than any other to exist.

“I don’t know why, okay?” Aaron said, sitting up and looking at his sister. “All I know is that God knows what is right.” He looked over to the staff and grabbed it, running his thumb over its many bumps and ridges.

“You’re right.” Miriam replied. “This whole ‘deliverer’ thing has turned you into a stronger believer than even _I_ am.”

“Yeah,” Aaron laughed. “Remember when you thought it was _totally_ going to be Moses?”

“Wrong brother. Big deal. It’s a simple mistake anyone could make.” Miriam replied with a grin. “I’m just glad I was blessed to be his family, no matter which member of it.”

Aaron smiled back with glassy eyes.

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quick note: i am sorry that i dont reply to most comments. it's nothing against y'all, i just have adhd and cant focus on nearly anything lmao. but when i have a bad day i come on here and read the comments and it makes me so happy that you all love this so much. i will not abandon this, dont worry! much love.


	18. Chapter 18

“Something is different.” Moses thought aloud as the desert wind swept through his hair. He looked down at the newborn lamb wobbling around its mother.

“What do you mean?” Farid asked with his back to his friend. Lately, things _had_ been different. Tzipporah and Moses were hardly speaking, if at all, and Iah was caught in the middle. The camp had felt their Priestess’ sour mood almost immediately.

Farid did think Tzipporah was being _much_ too hard on Moses. But then again, he had never been very spiritually literate, so God was probably saying things to Tzipporah that He did not say to Farid. Or Farid just wasn’t listening.

“I think something is going on in Egypt.” Moses sighed. “Even after eight years, I’m still so attached to that place.”

“Well, it’s probably Aaron and Miriam doing God’s work.” Farid replied, turning to look at the Hebrew.

“God said He would smite Egypt with his wonders. How bad do you think smiting is?” Moses asked with tired eyes.

“Well, considering that Egypt is full of Hebrew slaves, probably pretty bad.” Farid answered, looking to the lamb. It always amazed him how white they were at birth.

“Do you think He’s going to kill Rameses?”

“Heavens, Moses, what is it with you?” Farid groaned, slapping his forehead. “I’m sick of hearing about how much you love such a terrible man.”

“He’s my brother.” Moses answered with a frown.

“That’s not why you love him.” Farid replied, wagging his finger at the other man. “You love him like a wife does a husband. If you didn’t love him like that you probably wouldn’t love him at all.”

“Farid.” Moses said, aghast with an open mouth. “When did you become so ignorant and hateful?” Moses was shocked. Did Farid really think two men loving one another was wrong? In eight years, the man had never brought it up. Why now?

“Moses, that’s not what I mean.” Farid replied, shaking his head. “What I mean is that you need to stop masking your feelings and be honest with Tzipporah. You don’t love her, and you wish more than anything that Rameses would ride into Midian on a horse, scooping you into his arms and taking you back to Egypt, making you his bride.”

Moses walked over to a boulder and leaned on it, pinching his brow. As much as he wanted to deny Farid’s words, he couldn’t, for he knew he was right. Every day, Moses thought about Rameses. Every hour, every minute, every second. He tried not to cry, but he had created a river of tears, hidden behind tired eyes. It felt like he was drowning.

“I love Tzipporah, not as my wife, but as the mother of my child. She knows this.” Moses replied, looking up at his friend. “But I love Rameses as my soulmate. He and I were meant to be together. I realize that now. But I was stupid and selfish and ignorant. I just ran away without thinking how it would affect him, or the rest of my family.”

Moses waited for a response but watched as Farid came to sit beside him. The man seemed to be waiting for Moses to continue, so he did.

“I absolutely hate that he has carried on my father’s legacy. Deep down, I know it’s a good thing that I left. I went from being a selfish brat to a patient father and someone who contributes to his people, rather than sitting on a throne and being fed dates by servants who I considered less than human.”

“It sounds like we would have not gotten along.” Farid laughed. “I’m glad you came to Midian. You are a good friend, and I trust you with my life.”

Farid wrapped his arm around Moses.

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand, but I understand that your feelings are real.”

Moses turned to look at his friend.

“Thank you.” He replied with a smile. Farid returned the smile and patted Moses on the back.

“Now,” He began. “What did you mean when you said that something feels different?”

“Well,” Moses replied, pondering for a moment. “I know Egypt is going through something. Something ominous, but I don’t know what.”

“Are your people in danger?” Farid asked.

“No,” Moses shook his head. “I don’t think they will lose their lives. However, I know that whatever it is, it’s probably got my brother angry. Maybe the Nile dried up.”

“Do you ever wish that God had sent you instead of Aaron?”

“Yes. So much.”

* * *

“Tzipporah, can we talk?” Moses asked, poking his head into their shared tent. Well, currently it was his wife and daughter’s tent after getting kicked out.

He looked at Tzipporah, surrounded by her sisters. They all looked at him with inquisitive eyes. Tzipporah whispered something to her sisters and they all got up and walked out of the tent, whispering something about Moses that he didn’t really care to hear.

“Where is Iah?” He asked, walking in, sitting down in front of his wife. He watched as she looked at her reflection in the water, braiding her hair.

“She’s practicing on the loom. It’s been giving her something to do.” Tzipporah said.

“Do you think I could spend some time with her today?”

“You don’t have to ask. She’s your daughter.” Tzipporah replied curtly, tying off her hair.

“Well you haven’t exactly made it easy, what with all of the things that, as you say, ‘give her something to do.’” Moses replied, trying to sound even tempered. Tzipporah looked up at him.

“I’m just trying to fill her time up with anything other than-“

“Than Egypt?” Moses cut her off.

“Yes.” His wife huffed. “She’s _not_ Egyptian, Moses. She’s Midianite and Hebrew. It’s not right to fill her head with stories of people who aren’t even hers.”

“What do you want me to do?” Moses asked incredulously. “That’s all she ever asks me about. I know nothing of the Hebrew stories. Besides, Miriam and Aaron-“

“Miriam and Aaron aren’t _here_ anymore, Moses.” Tzipporah raised her voice. Moses clenched his fists until his knuckles were white. Father had always told him that a gentleman does not raise his voice at his wife.

“Is that what this is about?” Moses asked, looking down. He gave a dry laugh. “Look, I’m sorry that I don’t know anything about being Hebrew but for 18 years I thought I was Egyptian. What do you expect?”

“I expect you to be a responsible father and educate your child on her heritage.” Tzipporah stood up and marched over to the other end of the tent, sitting on a large pillow with her head in her hands. Moses watched, silently, until his wife turned to look at him again.

“All these stories of Egypt are putting ideas in her head.” Tzipporah said finally. “Do you know what she said to me the other day?”

Moses didn’t get a chance to ask.

“She said that she wished you would just take us all to Egypt and make up with your brother so she could be a princess. She’s never going to be a princess, Moses. And another thing!” Tzipporah hopped up and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “When are you going to tell her about the Hebrews in Egypt?”

“She’s _seven_.” Moses scoffed.

“What, do you want to wait until she’s 18, like you were?” Tzipporah challenged him with crossed arms and a raised brow.

“I’m the one who gave her the Hebrew part of her, I think it’s my business when I decide to tell her. Not yours.” He replied.

“She’s my daughter, too, Moses.” Tzipporah said.

“You’ve made that abundantly clear, what with forcing me to sleep elsewhere. You two seem to get along so well without me, maybe you don’t need me.” Moses replied dryly.

“Do you hear yourself? You sound just like you did when we first met. Arrogant.”

“Tzipporah, I’ve tried for so long to be a patient husband and let you take the reins for most everything in our lives. But you’re trying to push me out of my daughter’s life, and I’m not going to have it.” Moses replied, raising his voice to match hers.

“What about my life?” Tzipporah whimpered as her eyes welled up with tears. “Why don’t you care about being in my life?” She collapsed back onto the pillow, whimpering with her head in her hands.

Moses stood up, unsure of what to do next. Was this what this whole fight was about? Her feeling neglected?

He made his way over to sit beside her.

“Forgive me, Tzipporah. I didn’t know that you were this upset about my absence. I guess I always assume you knew how much I love you.” He said quietly, putting his calloused hand on her shoulder.

She peeked out from her hands to look at him, hazel eyes wet and puffy.

“I know that you love me, but it’s nice to be reminded sometimes. Everyone in this settlement looks to me for guidance. I need someone to turn to and I haven’t had that for a long time. You’re supposed to be that someone.” She said, sniffling.

“I know that ours isn’t the typical husband-and-wife relationship. But you’re my best friend, Moses. You have been for eight years. Of _course,_ when you pull away I’m going to be upset.”

“So, was the whole ‘kicking me out because you felt you might be offending God’ thing real?” Moses asked. He hoped it was, otherwise…

“Absolutely.”

 _Thank goodness_.

“I prayed a lot, but since you left-“

“Got kicked out.”

“Right, sorry. Since you got kicked out I haven’t been given any sort of message either way.” Tzipporah said, wiping the last of her tears away.

“So can I come back, then?” Moses tried not to sound too eager. To his delight, Tzipporah nodded.

“It’s only fair.” She replied.

“Thank the Lord.” Moses said, pulling her in for a hug and a kiss. “I’ll go tell Iah. I’m sure she’ll be just as excited.

Before he left the tent, he turned to look at his wife.

“Tzipporah, I love you. You’re my best friend, too.”


	19. brief hiatus

hi all,

thanks for continuing to read if you are.

for the rest of december i will be taking time off to focus on school, work, family, etc. but in january after the new year i will be back with PLENTY of great stuff for you guys.

see you soon! <3


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Please enjoy :) Hope you all had happy holidays!

Rameses rubbed his eyes hard with one hand, wiping away what had been left of the kohl liner. He watched the small bursts of light appear and disappear across his closed eyelids. It was the only light that was not fire he had seen in ages.

Moses’ Hebrew siblings had made Rameses’ life hell in the past two weeks. Rivers of blood, frogs, insects, famine, disease, fire falling from the sky, and now total darkness. The sun disappeared and the moon did not replace it. The term “dark as night” seemed laughable now that Rameses had experienced something much, much darker. Goshen, however, was well lit with sun from what he could see.

The servants had mostly abandoned the palace. Not that the pharaoh could blame them. A few guards roamed the halls, but what did it matter? Their enemy was a god, and no group of men could strike back against something powerful enough to take the sun away.

The priests had all but lost their minds. As each new plague befell Egypt, their excuses for what was happening and why _their_ gods were not answering were becoming weaker, and the two men were becoming less inclined to give them. Rameses had stumbled around the dark palace earlier that day, finding the two men facing a wall of hieroglyphs. When he had barked at them, demanding an answer, Hotep and Huy simply turned to look over their shoulders, eyes ringed with sleeplessness and Huy’s eyes seemed glassy with tears. The said nothing and turned their heads away from him once again. Rameses had been too shocked to say anything else, and quickly turned and left.

Nefertari and Amun were _fine_ , in a general since. They were alive and now that the lesions had gone away, unscathed. Amun was frightened, but his father’s reassurances seemed to keep him from crying. But Rameses’ wife seemed to have completely lost her head. Once she saw the fire reigning down onto the people below, her façade finally broke.

“Look at your people, Rameses!” She cried, pointing to the scene below them. “All you have to do is let the Hebrews go!”

_“Never.”_

Rameses huffed, gulping down the wine in the goblet he held in his other hand. He was not drunk, but he so desperately wanted to be. He took his free hand and stroked his stone perch. His mind wandered to the last time he and Moses had been here. His younger brother had comforted him after their father had called him a “weak link” in the chain that was their dynastic order. Moses didn’t have to worry about being a strong link, because he wasn’t in the chain at all. Moses was, in Rameses eyes, the key to unlock the chains. Talking to Moses long enough could make him forget how the chain dragged him down.

 _Oh, Moses. You idiot. You selfish, conniving, reckless, cold-hearted snake. Why couldn’t you have just stayed in Egypt?_ Rameses thought. He had often asked himself these questions over the years his brother had been gone, but they had become less out of anger and more genuine curiosity. _Then again, why didn’t I try harder to stop you? I could’ve run after you. I should’ve._

Before he could answer his own question, he heard a rhythmic echo hit the ground. Rameses turned his ear to listen.

 _Thud._ Silence. _Thud._ Silence. _Thud._ Silence. _Thud._ Silence.

The sound was drawing near, and right as Rameses realized what the noise was he saw Aaron round the corner, eyes darting across the room. The pharaoh held his breath and watched the Hebrew man beneath him silently.

It was now dawning on him how alike Aaron and Moses looked. The same eyes, high nose, and cheekbones. Moses had always been beautiful to him, and now this man was ruining his perfect image of his younger brother.

“Let me guess.” Rameses broke the silence, watching as Aaron jumped in surprise and looked up at him. “You want me to let your people go.”

“I hoped I would find you here.” Aaron said, looking away for a moment and scratching the back of his head. He turned back to the pharaoh. “Moses told me that you two would usually meet here to talk when you were growing up. Of course,” Aaron chuckled, shaking his head. “It was hard to find in all this darkness.”

Rameses sneered. How much did Moses tell these people? These were _their_ special memories. Why did Moses always want to share himself and his stories with other people? Why couldn’t he just be content with belonging to Rameses and no one else?

“Get out!” Rameses barked, throwing his goblet of wine to Aaron’s feet below.

“We must bring this to an end, Pharaoh.” Aaron said softly. “It’s what Moses would want.”

“Moses?” Rameses laughed, hopping down from his perch, and marching up to Aaron, puffing out his chest. “If Moses wanted it so badly why didn’t he come here himself?”

He saw sadness quickly flash across Aaron’s eyes before the man blinked and backed away, looking down.

“I will not let your people go.” Rameses said each word slowly and clearly, turning away to leave.

“He was supposed to.”

“What?” Rameses asked, turning back to look at Aaron. The man’s eyes had the same sadness he had displayed for that one second moments before.

“Moses was originally supposed to come with us back to Egypt.” Aaron sighed. “God tasked him with convincing you to let the Hebrews leave peacefully.”

“You think that just because he is my brother that he could convince me to let my country’s _entire_ labor force just up and leave?” Rameses scoffed, crossing his arms.

“No.” Aaron replied.

“No? That’s all you’ve got to say?” Rameses felt himself getting hot.

“What I mean to say is: I do not think that he could convince you because he is your _brother_.” Aaron said, raising an eyebrow as if trying to suggest something to Rameses.

“You’ve completely lost me, Hebrew.” Rameses replied.

Aaron expected him to march off, annoyed with the conversation, but he watched as the pharaoh shifted impatiently, obviously waiting for Aaron to elaborate. Moses was right, Rameses _was_ an easy read.

“Moses explained to me that you two had a very…” Aaron screamed at himself internally to find the right word. “ _Different_ relationship than that typical of brothers.” Aaron watched in fascination as he saw Rameses’ face quickly go from confusion, to realization, and then to horror.

“Which is completely fine! I’m not one to judge-“

“I don’t care whether it’s fine to you or not!” Rameses boomed, stabbing his finger into Aaron’s chest. “I’ll have you know that same sex relationships are a very normal thing here.”

“Yes, Moses has made me very aware.” Aaron gave a short laugh and gingerly removed the larger man’s finger from his chest. “But God knows that about you two, and so he thought that your love for Moses could help set the Hebrews free.”

“My love for Moses is no one’s concern!” Rameses spat. “Not yours, not your god’s…” He stopped as he saw the blue scarab ring catch in some sort of light in the room, though there should have been none. He drew his hand close and traced the pattern with his thumb and sighed. “Not even Moses’.”

Aaron watched as the pharaoh gazed listlessly at the turquoise ring on his middle finger.

“He really does love you, you know.” Aaron said finally.

“No, I don’t know.” Rameses said softly.

“Rameses, please. If you set the Hebrews free, all will be right, and Moses can come back to you!” Aaron pleaded. In reality he wished there were some way that his brother could go with him rather than come back to the pharaoh. But Tzipporah wouldn’t just let Moses uproot their family just to play second fiddle to the man who “gifted” her to Moses.

“No, all will not be right, Aaron.” Rameses hardened his expression and looked at the man in front of him. “I had my life with Moses all planned out. But then you and your sister had to muddy things up.”

“Isn’t it amazing how a single conversation completely changed Egypt as we know it? If your sister hadn’t said anything to Moses, he probably would be here, by my side, helping me to expand my empire.” Rameses watched as Aaron said nothing. “Alas, your sister did what she did, and we are here now. And now your people shall never be free.”

“But… even if Moses had stayed, and he had never learned the truth, there would be even _less_ of a chance that my people would be free!” Aaron replied.

“Yes, well, in life there are kings and slaves and all those in between. We all have to play our part.” Rameses smirked. “Leave.” He said, pointing to the hallway behind Aaron.

Aaron turned to look behind himself and then back at Rameses. He thought he had come so close to stopping this.

“Pharaoh, please. Something much worse is coming. You _must_ bring this to an end!” He cried.

“I will not be dictated to. I will not be threatened. I am the morning and the evening star. I am _Pharaoh_.” Rameses said through gritted teeth.

“Think of your son!” Aaron said finally. He knew nothing of the boy except that he held the only open spot in Rameses heart that Moses did not.

The pharaoh stood up straight and tall, looking down his angular features at the man before him.

“I do.” He said curtly. “You Hebrews have been nothing but trouble. My father had the right idea about how to deal with _your people_.”

“Rameses-“

“And I think it’s time I finished the job!”

The words hit Aaron like a ton of bricks. _Finish the job?!_

“Rameses!” Aaron winced

“And there shall be a great cry in all of Egypt such as never has been or ever will be again!”

Aaron opened his eyes to see that the pharaoh who had just shown him so much human emotion had once again become rigid and unmoving, like the countless statues dotting his Egypt. Rameses was now out for blood.

“Pharaoh, you bring this upon yourself.” Aaron said somberly, shaking his head. Without another word, he led himself out of the room with his staff, not bothering to look back.

Rameses held his breath until the sound of the staff faded softly into nothing. He exhaled into the silence. It would do no good for Moses to come back now. He sighed, glancing at the scarab ring one last time before making his way to his chambers for the chance at maybe just a few moments of rest.

After all, with Moses gone, there was no fun to be had in the dark.

* * *

Aaron leaned the staff onto the wall and sat on the bed. His head throbbed. It had finally come to _this_ of all things.

“Well?” Miriam asked, wringing her hands. She knew from her brother’s demeanor that the answer would not be good, but she wanted to know regardless.

“Pharaoh wouldn’t listen.” He shook his head, looking at her. “The Angel of Death will come down and take the lives of all the firstborns in Egypt.”

Miriam gasped and covered her mouth.

“Even Rameses’ son?” She asked, her voice muffled by her hands. Aaron nodded.

“Did you tell him?” Miriam took her hands away from her mouth and used them to nervously stroke her hair.

“I tried, but…” Aaron turned to look out of the window behind him, laying his eyes on the sprawling palace so far away. “I told him to think of his son, and then he threatened to kill us all.”

“He said that his father had the right idea about ‘our’ people.” He finished, turning back to his sister. Her eyes were pricked with tears and her cheeks were red.

“What a monster.” She choked out. “But does that mean he’ll be sending his men tonight? To wipe us all out?”

“I don’t think so.” Aaron reassured her. “I was able to get into the palace with no problem. I didn’t see a single guard. I doubt he has the numbers to actually follow through on his threat.”

Miriam nodded and wiped her tears away, taking a deep breath.

“So, what now?” She exhaled.

“God has come to me again, saying, ‘Take a lamb… and with its blood… mark the lintel and posts of every door, for tonight… I shall pass through the land of Egypt… and smite all the firstborn.’” Aaron answered.

“’But when I see the blood upon your door… I will pass over you, and the plague shall not enter.’”

“Alright,” Miriam said, standing up. “Let’s tell the others.” Her face showed a mixture of determination and sadness.

* * *

Aaron stood in the cold, dark alley as he watched his people smear lamb’s blood across their doors. He was proud of their resilience and determination. It hadn’t taken much time to win them over and convince them of God’s plan, and he was flattered by their trust in him. Even so, he felt uneasy. The Pharaoh’s son would surely die.

All of the children of Egypt would. They didn’t deserve their fate, but who was he to question God’s orders? He wondered if Moses were to find out, would he be angry with Aaron for killing his nephew? Blood may have been thicker than water for most people, but Aaron knew that was not the case for Moses. Aaron’s younger brother loved booth of the families that he had come to know.

It was then that Aaron remembered that Moses would be facing consequences for his refusal to participate in the emancipation of the Hebrews. What could God have in store for him?

Aaron looked to the night sky and asked that question a second time. He felt a gust of wind travel through his brown locks. He shivered.

Whatever it was, God would not tell him. Aaron just had to trust that it would all be for a good reason.

“What are you thinking about?” Miriam asked him. Aaron turned around to face her, forcing a smile.

“Freedom for our people.”


End file.
